


Where My Heart Resides

by BeautifulThief, cimberelly



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Kisumi appears first in Chapter 12, M/M, SouKisu appears in Chapter 14, first time writing SouKisu and it is awkward I am sorry OTL, mentions and appearances of characters from Free!, other characters tagged as necessary, other pairings too tagged as necessary, rating will change as necessary too, unexpected cameos
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-10
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-02-08 06:29:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 75,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1930203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeautifulThief/pseuds/BeautifulThief, https://archiveofourown.org/users/cimberelly/pseuds/cimberelly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prince Kise Ryouta of Kaijo has known his entire life that he probably wasn't going to marry for love. He just didn't quite expect the marriage arrangement he did end up in.</p><p>Meanwhile, Crown Prince Aomine Daiki of Touou isn't particularly interested in getting married, but he's going to do it anyway, if only just to make everyone else shut up about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> WELCOME TO THE BABY also known as the AU that ran away with us.
> 
> BeautifulThief is writing Kise's chapters; cimberelly is writing Aomine's.
> 
> Pretty much inspired by [this art](http://takeda-t.tumblr.com/post/90849129617).

The day that changed Ryouta’s life had seemed like any other when it begun.

The only sense that he got from most days of his life was one of boredom. The day started as usual – lazy and unconcerned. Rika would probably scold him again, for being such a layabout, but it wasn’t as if he had any particular duties or classes to attend. If Her Queenliness wanted him to do something, she should give him something to _do_.

As it was, he woke up late. The sun was streaming in through the break in the heavy drapes which kept his room in darkness. As Ryouta pulled the blankets off and set foot on the cold tile floor, he scrunched his toes and sighed.

He supposed he could go down to the practice courts, although he was well beyond a match for all the best court fencers. It was too cold to swim in the ocean just yet too. Honestly, he almost considered getting back into bed, but Rika’s lecture would be bad enough for sleeping so late. There was no need to make the scolding worse by staying all day in bed.

Besides, there would be no cure for boredom in his bedroom.

He threw open the drapes, and looked out the window. It was a nice day outside – sunny, a little bit of cloud in the sky. There was a wind coming off the ocean, but it was a light one, judging by the way the trees in the garden his bedroom overlooked swayed gently.

Days like today he wished he was younger, wished that Hikaru and Rika would come tumbling in to pull him out of bed and dress him, and play with his hair and accessories, and make him accompany them out to the markets.

But Rika was Queen now; the boundless energy that was a well-known Kise trait within the palace was directed towards the running of their country, an endless challenge that Rika took to battle with by the horns. And Hikaru was married, sickeningly in love with her new husband, and probably pregnant. That was probably just as well too, with Rika being so fussy on the matter of her consort.

Still, everything was so boring these days. The restrictions on his activities and behaviours were particularly grating on some of his friends, who wanted to go out and have a good time in the city, rather than sit in one of the dining halls and conduct proper, boring conversations with proper, boring ladies.

“Ugh.”

He threw himself back on the bed. He was a _prince_ , damn it. Surely there was _some_ way to deal with this endless boredom. All the money and power and status had to be useful for _something_.

He sat up with a sigh, running fingers through his hair. He’d find something to do with his time today.

After dressing, and preening in the mirror for a little bit – the one thing he would never let Rika scold him for was his presentation of himself and representation of his family – he finally left his bedroom to wander towards the kitchens. The cook adored him. She always had, and she always had breakfast for him, no matter how long after breakfast he got up.

He smiled as he slipped into the kitchens. Their kitchen was always bustling and busy, and Cook was like a Queen herself, running her domain with an iron fist. She smiled as she saw him, and he waved, grinning back at her.

Cook was one of the few servants who’d been working here long enough to know him and his sisters as children. As such, she was afforded the luxury of familiar address when she spoke with him.

“You’re up late again, Ryouta,” she clucked, but she pulled out his preferred breakfast from where she’d been keeping it warm all the same.

He batted his eyes at her, and smiled demurely. He’d learned long ago that his pretty face could escape him a scolding from almost anyone; women’s weapons of social engagement worked just as well for him. “You know me, Cook,” he said, “I’m just such a hopeless layabout.”

Cook, for all her long association with the family, was just as susceptible to him as anyone else. He’d charmed her as a child, and when she looked at him, he knew she often saw the cheeky, cheerful child that had darted about her kitchen to escape his classes, trying to get his hands into everything and get her to make his favourites for dinner.

Her hands were covered in flour, but he knew she would have ruffled his hair if they weren’t. “Ryouta, what are we going to do with you?” she asked, but it was more like a gentle joke than a scold.

“I’m sure Nee-chan will figure something out for me sooner or later,” he said, smiling as he popped a bite of food in his mouth. He swallowed before continuing. “She’s such a busybody; she won’t leave me to my own devices forever.”

“That’s a cruel thing to say about your own sister, Ryouta,” Cook said, but she chuckled before she pulled one of her kitchen girls over to test what she was working on. “Your sister works hard for us all.”

“That she does,” he agreed, and finished off the last of his meal. “Thank you, Cook. Have I ever told you that you are an _angel_?”

Cook giggled like a young girl, and Ryouta liked when he got her to do that. Cook had a tough job, running their kitchens, and he liked to think he gave her energy when he made her feel young again. “Only every morning, cheeky boy. Off with you! Stop distracting my kitchen girls.”

Ryouta grinned and trotted out of the kitchen, throwing a wave over his shoulder.

But now that he’d eaten, he wasn’t really sure what to do with himself. He wandered into the entrance hall and sighed. At this time of day, Rika would be in her Council Rooms, conferring with her advisors, and the gods only knew where Hikaru was, but Ryouta suspected he didn’t want to know.

Kasamatsu might be up for an outing into the city, though...

With that in mind, Ryouta turned towards the fencing gallery. Kasamatsu could usually be found there, toiling for the excellence in it that Ryouta just _had_. He was greatly admired by the ladies of the court for his diligence and form, though his friend struggled through the polite conversations that interested ladies attempted. Ryouta had _tried_ to help him out, but...

Well, perhaps it was time for another attempt.

He popped his head into the gallery. It was quiet at this time, since most came out earlier in the morning for practice drills and bouts. Kasamatsu was still there though, running through his drills with quiet persistence.

“Good morning, Kasamatsu-san,” he called as he stepped in.

“It’s almost time for lunch, your Highness,” his friend replied, finishing the motion he’d been doing and then relaxing.

Ryouta waved away the comment. “What have I told you about calling me that? Anyway, did you want to go out into the city? It’s so _boring_ here, I don’t have anything to do.”

His friend frowned. “ _I_ have things to do. You would too, if you ever let your esteemed sister catch you.”

Ryouta pouted. “She’ll just scold me and make me do boring things like talk to ladies and foreign dignitaries who want to feel puffed up and important.”

Kasamatsu put away his things and sighed. “You’re such a brat. Don’t you ever take the time to talk to those foreigners? You could learn something interesting.”

Ryouta laughed, and it came out a little bit bitter. Oops. “They barely spend enough time in their own countries to tell me anything I haven’t heard before. They all say the same things. It’s only worth talking to them when they’re important, like Cousin Akashicchi.”

Kasamatsu pulled a face. “It never stops being weird hearing you talk about such important people so flippantly.”

“Cousin Akashicchi loves me,” he said easily. “I should go visit him again soon.”

“Please don’t,” Kasamatsu responded, voice dry. “I’ll get enlisted into your entourage and the Rakuzan court gives me the creeps.”

“I’m so bored though. At least it’s always interesting at Akashicchi’s court.”

Kasamatsu smacked the back of his head. “You should stop running away from your responsibilities by calling them boring,” he scolded. Ryouta didn’t even try to stop this lecture – Kasamatsu was one of the very few people who was not swayed or charmed by him. “You should be more like your sister. She needs all the help she can get, you know. Be responsible and settle down so she can stop having to worry about you and waste time and energy she needs for running the country.”

Ryouta rubbed the back of his head. Kasamatsu hadn’t hurt him, ever mindful of the social boundaries between himself and his Prince, but it was more the principal of the thing.

“Ryouta!”

He flinched hearing the stern tone, and then turned slowly. His eldest sister, Queen Kise Rika, was standing in the doorway, a hand on her hip. She was dressed very finely today, Ryouta noted; one of her nicest blue gowns embroidered in silver thread, and her hair was braided and pinned immaculately, and in her free hand she was holding one of her finer tiaras, white gold with diamonds and sapphires.

“Good morning, Nee-chan,” he greeted her, smiling and praying that she was in one of her better moods. He watched her look him over, and a different kind of concern washed over him as she sighed.  
“I suppose it’ll do,” she muttered to herself. “Come. I am in need of your assistance.”

Ryouta shrugged it off, glad for the lack of scolding which usually accompanied Rika’s presence. “What do you need, Nee-chan?” It was obvious that this wasn’t a usual request, which was more to get Ryouta out of her hair and doing things which were vaguely useful, but not strictly necessary.

She paused. “We’ll take a detour by my quarters,” she said. “I will need your assistance with my hair and the re-settlement of my tiara.”

Rika’s hair was perfect, and she could easily have one of her handmaidens do the job, but he just nodded, and they walked side by side to her rooms.

Strictly speaking, Rika’s quarters were not the Monarch’s rooms. Rika had refused to move their father from the quarters he had called home for so many years, even when he’d stepped off the throne to give care of the country to Rika due to his age and health. Instead, she remained in the quarters she had occupied as the Crown Princess, which were still significantly nicer than the rooms that Hikaru used to occupy, and which Ryouta still lived in.

As they entered Rika’s chambers, she shooed out her favoured handmaid and settled at her vanity, unpinning her hair.

Ryouta followed her in, and stood behind her. Rika’s hair was beautiful and luxurious as always, long, curly and fine, and he helped her pull the braid out. It was a soothing ritual for both of them, a nostalgic reminder of times gone by, when Hikaru and Rika had made him do their hair after learning that he could do it perfectly after watching their handmaids.

“Ryouta,” she began as he started to run her brush through her hair, “have you ever considered the idea of making a political marriage?”

He didn’t pause as he pulled the hairbrush through her hair, though he was a little surprised. “Of course,” he answered. “Isn’t that something we’ve had to consider as a possibility our entire lives?”

Rika hummed, and he put the brush down; her hair had no knots in it to brush out anyway, and he let his nimble fingers begin to restyle her hair. “Yes. I was just making sure that you had. Sometimes you can be a little slow on the uptake, little brother.”

Ryouta smiled at her in the mirror. She was looking straight at her reflection, and there was a sense of resolve about her countenance. “Well, especially with how things went with Hikaru, I’ve kind of been expecting something like this,” he admitted, twisting her hair into shape.

Rika sighed. “It is Father’s dearest wish to ensure that we are happy. Hikaru would never have been happy in a political alliance, chosen because it is fortuitous for the country rather than for her own feelings. We have been accounting for it for years.” She was quiet for a moment, and watched as Ryouta steadily worked on her hair. “There has been a proposal.”

“For me?” It was uncommon for someone to request for marriage with him, although it was not the first time it had happened. “With who?”

“Well, not strictly speaking for you,” she admitted. “But the nature of the alliance requires a marriage.”

“You’re avoiding,” Ryouta accused.

“A little,” Rika owned, laughing. The amusement fell away almost as quickly as it had arrived. “Hikaru is already married. The nature of the marriage also means that I am not a candidate that can be considered, as I already sit on the throne.”

He finished twisting her hair into place, and began pinning it. “Just tell me who it is, Nee-chan.”

She set her shoulders. “Touou.”

 _This_ made Ryouta pause. “The barbarians?”

“They’re very rich, and their armies are powerful,” Rika said quietly. “We share a border with them. They’re not threatening us or anything – in fact, they’ve been nothing but courteous. It would be advantageous for both of us, for our royal houses to be tied together. It ensures continued peace.”

There was still something she wasn’t telling him. “What’s the catch?” he asked, sliding the last of the pins into place, and picking up her tiara. “Touou, Touou... large royal family, mostly consisting of half-siblings. Only one Princess... wasn’t she married recently?”

“Yes,” Rika answered, “I see you’ve managed to keep up with court gossip, if with nothing else.”

“So you’re proposing that I marry one of the princes,” Ryouta concluded.

“Not just _any_ prince,” she protested. “No, for my baby brother, only the Crown Prince is appropriate.”

Ryouta almost dropped her tiara.

“You’re joking,” he said weakly, clutching the expensive piece of headwear in his hands. “Aomine Daiki. You want me to marry _Aomine Daiki_.”

“That’s the one,” Rika agreed. “Crown Prince of Touou. Has a bunch of other names, which I’m sure you’ve heard.”

He had. They were very floral, some of them; Slayer of Kings (though Ryouta had never gotten a straight answer over which king he killed for that name), the Dark Panther, the Protector of the East, and a bunch of others besides.

“You think they’ll agree to that?” he asked, placing the tiara on her head with trembling hands. Rika reached up and steadied them.

“Well, they might, or they might not,” she answered. “But I would like to send you.” She didn’t let his hands go after they placed her tiara, and she turned in her seat to face him, his hands cradled between hers. Ryouta looked at the blue signet ring on her right hand.

“You are adaptable. People love you, and you have a rare gift for socialisation. You have incredible bloodlines, and are an exceptionally handsome young man. You are very well suited for a political marriage, and this is a very good offer. But if you think you will be unhappy there, I won’t make you do it.”

He looked at her face, and smiled. “Well, they’ll probably just send me back,” he said. “But it would be in bad faith not to offer the option, right? Besides, it’s somewhere new, somewhere I’ve never been. It’ll be fun!”

She laughed, and squeezed his hands. “I hear he’s very handsome,” she teased. “Maybe you’ll want to keep him.”

He pulled his hands away and laughed. “Come on. I have to go and meet with their dignitaries, don’t I?”

“Yes,” Rika agreed.

 

* * *

 

“So, that’s that,” Ryouta finished to the assembled group. Most of them were staring at him.

“You’re going to the land of barbarians to marry a barbarian prince,” one of them said, looking mildly incredulous. “You’re going to go marry _another man_.”

Ryouta waved his hand. “They’ll probably send me straight back,” he said, laughing. “Come on.”

“Well, I still think we should go out on the town,” Moriyama said. “One last hurrah for our wonderful liege lord before he goes off to the land of violent bloodthirsters?”

Moriyama liked him well enough, Ryouta knew, but his favourite part of being friends with the prince was the way that commoner girls flocked whenever he went out with them, eager to get a chance to see him, and maybe start their fairytale love story with him.

Kasamatsu frowned. “Prince Kise is engaged, it’s probably not appropriate...”

“No, let’s go,” Ryouta said. “It’ll be fun, and I won’t have time to get nervous!”

“Nothing makes you nervous, idiot,” Kasamatsu muttered beside him, but it was missed by most of the rest of their friends because of their cheering. Ryouta grinned at him though.

“So when are you leaving?”

“The arrangements for travel will be finished by the end of the week, and I’ll probably leave a day or two after they’re complete,” Ryouta said. “Nee-chan’s put me in charge of it all.” Then he sighed and pouted. “It’s a lot of work.”

“You don’t have anything better to be doing,” Kasamatsu pointed out.

After the group had dissolved, and Ryouta had confirmed that _yes_ , they _would_ be going out before he left, he and Kasamatsu walked through the empty corridors of the palace.

“Are you okay with this?”

Ryouta was startled by the question. “I didn’t have to agree to go, Kasamatsu-san,” he said. “But it’s a good opportunity to travel somewhere that isn’t Rakuzan, and they’ll probably just refuse and send me back.”

“Have you thought about what you’ll do if they keep you?” Kasamatsu asked.

“Nope,” Ryouta answered cheerfully. “Because it’s not going to happen. What possible use could I be to Crown Prince Aomine?”

Kasamatsu sighed. “You won’t listen to me even if I say you’re being stupid, but I hope you know what you’re doing, your Highness.”

Kise pouted, and paused as they reached the door to the wing where his chambers were. “I hate it when you call me that, Kasamatsu-san,” he whined.

“Act less like an airheaded princess, and I won’t. Goodnight, Prince Kise.”

He sighed. “Goodnight then.”

Ryouta took a moment to lean against the door, watching Kasamatsu leave, before he went inside. He should probably start working on all the paperwork that Rika had saddled him with to organise his trip to Touou, but that was boring and he didn’t want to.

Instead, he thought about travelling. The family visits to Rakuzan had always been exciting and fun; Ryouta had used to envy Akashi’s enormous extended family. He knew the basics of the Touou royal family, of course; he’d always learned at the very least about those who stood as his social equals, if nothing else. Most of the children were only half-related through their father, and Aomine was of age with him even though he was the Crown Prince over his three older brothers and older sister. Ryouta couldn’t remember if the succession laws for Touou had ever been taught to him – probably. He’d probably just never cared, and therefore hadn’t paid attention, but he had a niggling feeling that Touou didn’t allow for a female ruler. That made him shudder – he couldn’t imagine having to be the King of Kaijo. Rika had always been best suited for the throne, the most sensible of the three of them; though, Hikaru wouldn’t do a bad job if she had to.

It was just as well she was the heir now. Ryouta would make a terrible Crown Prince. Most of the servants here knew him as lazy and carefree, a little spoiled as the baby of the family and only son. He wasn’t exactly undeserving of said opinion, though his charm and looks had ensured most of the servants adored him despite the reputation attached.

He sighed, and pushed away from the door before going inside to walk down the hall to his chambers. He should go to bed; he had a lot of things to do over the next week.

Thankfully, Ryouta discovered over the next two days, he could _delegate_. That made his task much easier. Less paperwork and number-crunching _he_ had to do as well. However, in the blur of planning and organising and routing, Ryouta’s leaving date got pushed back a little; the Touou delegation didn’t seem to mind, thankfully.

Ryouta wasn’t sure how he felt about Imayoshi Shoichi. Aomine’s oldest brother always made the appearance of pleasantry, but there was just something about him that made Ryouta think that he never quite saw all him. He seemed more amused by Ryouta’s attempts to figure out the best way to wheedle out his desired response than anything else.

It did not bode well to start out with yet another person who wasn’t easily charmed, so Ryouta kind of just crossed his fingers and hoped that Imayoshi was the exception, rather than the rule.

In the future, Ryouta would regard the day before his departure with incredibly mixed feelings – but that day he went through his usual rituals. He slept late, dressed himself up as usual, though he somewhat bemoaned the fact that many of his clothes were packed, even if he would be getting some more area-appropriate outfits on the way; he went and fenced with Kasamatsu, and avoided his older sisters, both of whom tended to attempt to crush his ribs in a hug when they caught him because they were feeling overly-sentimental about his departure. He wasn’t quite sure why they felt it was necessary. He was going to come home, after all.

The evening started at the palace gates, where he and Kasamatsu met with the rest of their social group, and everyone was very excited.

Ryouta hadn’t been allowed out on one of their evening excursions in months; Kasamatsu hated babysitting him and he was the only one of his friends that his sisters trusted to do it properly. This always meant pickings of girls were slimmer, and that money for drinks ran out faster. So his finally being able to come out with them again, even given the circumstances, was an occasion for excitement.

Honestly Ryouta didn’t remember very much at all about what happened that night.

He remembered the first place they went, and how it had been decided that the girls there weren’t all that pretty, so they’d left, much to the barkeep’s displeasure (their large, affluent group was a dream in its early stage, when they were all relatively sober and pleasant company) and a bit of the second. He remembered at both places waving the barkeeps over to get them to make Kasamatsu’s drinks stronger because his friend needed to lighten up a little and have _fun_ with him on his last night in the city for a while. He vaguely remembered some of the girls who he talked up his friends to and... not all that much after that.

What he _did_ remember about that night was the morning after, because when he woke up he was not in his rooms at the palace, and he was only awake because Kasamatsu barged in, looking pale and furious.

And because he felt sick to his stomach.

“Oh my god,” Kasamatsu said, and Ryouta threw up.

“I can’t believe you,” Kasamatsu continued even as Ryouta whimpered over the sound of his voice making his head feel like it was going to explode. “I can’t believe you talked the barkeeps into making me drunk, I can’t believe... the innkeeper says that there was a _girl_ with you when you came in, do you understand how _bad_ this is? Your sister is going to _kill_ me.”

“Kasamatsu,” Ryouta croaked. “You’re making my head hurt.”

Ruthless, Kasamatsu hauled him out of the bed from the side he hadn’t thrown up on. “I don’t _care_ ,” he hissed. “Your sister is not going to hang me because you got wasted and had sex with some girl. You are going to come back to the palace, _discreetly_ , and get dressed, and then you are going to get on a horse and you are not going to complain about the light or your nausea, because your potential in-laws are travelling with us and I cannot believe you fucked up on the last night.”

“Stop talking,” Ryouta whined. “It hurts.”

“I’ll make more than your head hurt if you don’t make yourself decent in five minutes,” he threatened, and stomped out of the room.

Everything felt horrible. He didn’t want to get out of bed. He wanted to sleep until he stopped hurting and feeling nauseous. But he got up anyway, and fumbled around the room for his clothes, pulling them on blearily while taking deep breaths to try and prevent further vomiting.

When Kasamatsu came back upstairs, he had water.

“Thank you,” Ryouta whimpered.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Kasamatsu said, scowling. “In fact, don’t thank me until we’re leaving the city and the Touou delegation hasn’t decided your drunken behaviour is a good reason to decide you’re not worth the positives of considering you.”

Ryouta sighed. It was going to be a long morning.

Kasamatsu was a bigger angel than he could have anticipated though; he squared up the account with the innkeeper, and guided him through the back-alleys and generally darker sections of the city before they made their approach to the palace. It seemed, in their fear of death, the rest of the group, despite also being hung over, had rallied to attempt to get him back into the palace before his disappearance was noticed by someone who _mattered._

Finally, they got Ryouta back to his room. He collapsed into his bed with a grateful sigh, rubbing his cheek against the pillow.

“Bed is nice,” he mumbled.

“Don’t fall asleep,” Kasamatsu snapped. “You need to get changed.”

“But I feel sick,” Ryouta whined.

Kasamatsu grabbed his arm and hauled him into a sitting position. “Don’t make me get your sister. We’re already behind schedule.”

“I want to die,” Ryouta announced, but let himself be pulled and pushed around as required.

Ryouta changed into road-worthy clothes –sturdy, comfortable and didn’t show dirt easily – and took a moment to look around his wardrobe. It was looking only a little emptier than usual, but he was going to miss all his options, even if his best things were coming with him.

There was no point showing up looking bad, after all. Even if he wasn’t going to marry the prince, he was not going to disgrace his home, or his family.

He sentimentally lingered in the door before returning to his room to look in the vanity. He looked almost as awful as he felt, green-tinged face and messy hair. Well, at least he could do a little something about the hair.

“Stop fussing,” Kasamatsu growled.

“I’m not _fussing_.” He stood up, and felt a wave of nausea hit. “I really hope Cook made me a breakfast I can stomach...”

“I’m going to be shocked if you can manage to eat anything,” Kasamatsu said. “I should have asked her to make something I could give you later so you won’t pass out from hunger.”

“Cook is an angel,” Ryouta mumbled. “She’ll have figured it out.”

As they made their slow way to the kitchens, Ryouta tried to keep his stomach from having a violent disagreement with his surroundings. Kasamatsu kept looking straight ahead, seeming to pay very little mind to the fact that his Prince looked like he was about to fall over and throw up all over himself, but the way he walked at the same slow pace as Ryouta revealed his concern.

They finally made it to the kitchen.

“Oh, you poor dear,” cooed Cook, and although Ryouta noticed an amused twitch to her mouth, he chose to ignore it. “I hear you had a very big night last night.”

“I’m going to die,” he told her, straight faced and serious, and leaning over the nearest bench.

“Come now, Ryouta, you’ve made it this far.” She pushed a plate of bread and water next to him. “I imagine this is about all you’re going to be able to stomach.”

She turned to Kasamatsu as Ryouta tore pieces off the bread and nibbled half-heartedly at them. “I have some things for when he looks like he’s not going to throw up everything he eats.” Kasamatsu looked almost as relieved as Ryouta felt.

And then Cook nudged an empty bucket on the floor at him with her foot, and right on cue, Ryouta threw up again.

“I can’t,” Ryouta wailed. “Everything is spinning and hurting and I feel sick.”

Kasamatsu sighed. “Your sisters are going to kill me. We need to go. Thank you for feeding the degenerate, Cook.”

“I would have liked to make him something better as a send off,” she said, “but I knew he wouldn’t be able to eat anything.”

“I’m going to miss you,” Ryouta mumbled.

Kasamatsu hauled one of Ryouta’s arms over his shoulders and pulled him up with a sigh. “Come on, drunkard. It’s time to go say goodbye to your sisters, and hope that your late return home was _not_ relayed to them by anyone.”

Ryouta groaned. “Kasamatsu-san why did I drink so much?”

“Because you got _me_ too drunk to stop you.”

Well, that sucked.

Finally, they managed to make their way to the entrance hall, where Rika and Hikaru were waiting, chatting amicably with the assembled members of the Touou delegation. Kasamatsu made him walk on his own to the group.

“Are you sure about this, Ryouta?” Rika asked quietly. “You don’t have to.”

“It’ll be fine, Nee-chan,” he answered, smiling, and giving her a hug. She wrinkled her nose – she could probably smell his sickness on him – but returned it.

“Look after Nee-chan, won’t you?” he said to Hikaru, who smiled.

“I’ve been looking after her since before you were born, little brother,” she said, and poked out her tongue. “Don’t go and get yourself killed, Cousin Akashi will have an even worse fit than Rika.”

“I can take care of myself!” Ryouta protested.

“No you can’t,” Kasamatsu said, voice dry. “That’s why I’m going with you.”

Ryouta pouted, but it made the girls laugh, and, well, they looked a little teary, and Ryouta didn’t want them to cry.

“I’m not leaving _forever_ ,” he said, and tried to give them his best smile. It never really worked on them, but they both seemed somewhat consoled.

“Come on, your Highness,” Kasamatsu said. “It’s past time for us all to be off.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Dai-chan.”

“Mm.”

“Wake up.”

“Mm.”

“Dai-chan!”

There was more force in the wake up call this time as a feminine hand nudged at the motionless lump on the bed. The lump refused to move despite the insistence behind the pushy gesture and the peeved tone of that voice.

“Wake up! You have to get ready! Your bride is arriving today!”

There was a stillness then as the words sunk in, a quiet before deliberate action, and finally, the lump moved. The lump, which was actually a man, rolled on his side slowly before sitting up with the same unhurried pace, groaning deeply. A big hand came up to ruffle at messy, dark hair as he yawned wide, ignoring the look of utter disgust he was getting from his early morning visitor.

“I’m up…” He insisted, voice deep and rumbly still from drowsiness. It had barely any effect on the one so determined to wake him up and get him out of bed.

“Barely!” His visitor, a petite, buxomy woman with long pink hair who really shouldn’t have any business in a man’s room at this time of the day, shot back. In her hands was a robe and she threw it at him with more force than was really necessary. It caught him in the face and he had to admit it kind of hurt.

“Satsuki…”

“Stop whining and put that on! We don’t have time for your slowness and you still need to get a bath at least. Breakfast would have to wait!”

Through the woman’s, Satsuki’s, sermon, the man was able to get himself into the robe. Another moment and another groan and he was pulling himself out of bed to stand, closing up the robe as he did. It wouldn’t do to aggravate Satsuki any further by carelessly giving her a sight of things “she’d seen and had been unimpressed by.” Satsuki could be quite cruel but that was probably already obvious.

“Can’t I at least get some coffee?” The man tried anyway around a yawn as he slowly started making his way across the room and out the door, Satsuki at his heels.

“Fine, we’ll get you some coffee but after your bath!” His pink-haired menace relented after some thought.

He stepped out the door to a magnificent view of sprawling mountains, lush gardens and magnificent fountains, the newly risen sun warm and gentle on his dark skin. It was looking to be a beautiful day and he would have loved to just lie back and relax but it wasn’t meant to be, it seemed. He was slowly starting to wake up with the help of Satsuki’s nagging and the sweet smell of blooming flowers in the gentle breeze. Satsuki’s words settle on his mind and the idea of a bath made him smirk, the expression unrepentantly lewd.

“A bath, huh? Am I gonna get help of some kind?” He asked, drawling teasingly as his lidded blue eyes twinkled with lewd mischief. “Three, maybe four pairs of helping hands... It’s a special day, you know…”

Satsuki was unaffected by the look, having seen it for years and completely immune, and could only shake her head. “Not on the day of your engagement, Dai-chan.”

In response, Aomine Daiki, Crown Prince and Named Heir of the Kingdom of Touou, could only sigh.

His life could be so unfortunate sometimes. 

 

* * *

 

Daiki agreed to the engagement because Shoichi made a good case, in other words, he just wanted Shoichi to get off his back. It was never fun to have Imayoshi Shoichi, First Prince of Touou, taking an interest in you because some things needed to be done. His family had been after him for years to get married already.

Shoichi smiled that sly, crafty smile, those spectacles of his not hiding a single bit of his deviousness though there had never been any doubt that Shoichi always worked toward the betterment of Touou. It was still always best to treat his half-brother with some wariness, Daiki believed. “I think it’s time, don’t you think? You’re more than of age and things are peaceful. It would just make sense for the Heir to the Throne to settle down and start a family. And the people do like seeing you doing other things aside from securing victories in battle.”

These were words Daiki had been hearing since he was eligible for marriage but he had been putting off the decision for years.

Daiki was born a prince but grown and trained to become a soldier because that was where his talents lay. No one was as skilled with a sword and he had won a war to prove his mettle more than enough. But it had been a few years since then and peace bored him. He knew how terrible that sounded but it was the truth. A warrior was only good and useful when he had battles to fight and already he could feel the idleness seep into his bones, making him lazy and lethargic. He was at his best with a sword in his hand, a battle to fight and a bloody purpose to fulfill. Marriage was the last thing he felt he needed but he supposed that it would amuse him for a while, anything to keep him from being bored out of his mind even for a while. Besides, it would also please his mother so there was that and he would put an end to the relentless nagging, especially from Shoichi and Satsuki, his elder half-sister who had also recently gotten herself shackled.

It didn’t take too long for him to respond that last time Shoichi asked and to give him a nod, sighing like the decision was as heavy and annoying as a sword not fitted for his grip. “Fine. Get me a pretty one, would you?”

Shoichi’s smile turned pleased at that. “The Kises of Kaijo are known for their beauty.”

“Kaijo…” The name gave him pause and his expression turned a bit sour as he remembered, “Their women are thin and flat, right? That’s what they say?”

Unsurprisingly, his remark made his half-brother laugh, “Aomine, you are so simple, but I guess I like that about you.”

“Shut up.”

But of course that was ineffective as his half-brother didn’t fear him at all and Shoichi continued to laugh at him but he promised him a pretty one for sure. 

 

* * *

 

Bathing was a solitary, spartan affair as Satsuki insisted it to be and so was dressing but it wasn’t really so bad. It gave Daiki time to be alone with his thoughts though there really wasn’t a lot for him to think about. All preparations for meeting his bride had been taken care of by people more capable to the task than he’ll ever be so everything should go smoothly. All he had to do was show up and that was that.

Eventually, his thoughts took a turn toward what was to come or more correctly, whom. His mother was overjoyed at the news that her stubborn son had finally decided to get married and everyone else breathed a sigh of relief. Daiki didn’t really know why he had to get married; it wasn’t as if he couldn’t provide heirs. Satsuki, Shoichi, everyone really, had gone over the reason with him a thousand times but he still thought it was incredibly stupid. It would make the people happy, they said. A Crown Prince with a beautiful bride at his side, an optimistic picture for the masses to look up to and to inspire them. Daiki, who did care about keeping their territories and people safe, didn’t really bother with what people thought about him. Everyone else did it for him anyway hence the pressures of getting married well and handsomely.

Kaijo was obviously a good strategic choice. They shared a border and trade and relations with them would be very beneficial,  given Kaijo’s access to the sea and its incomparable navy. What Imayoshi also said about the Kises was true: they were known for their beauty, the gold of their hair and the fairness of their skin. Daiki could only imagine that children from the union would be graced with good looks (no one could ever accuse Aomine Daiki of modesty. Not at all) and that was always good. There really shouldn’t be a negative side to the marriage that Daiki could see. His bride will be beautiful and she will give him equally beautiful children. The idea almost put him to sleep at how cut and dry it seemed but today was the day when he will meet his bride and there was no turning back. It was just how things were going to be.

He was to meet her and her entourage at the foot of the mountain some time after noon but he had to rise early to prepare then begin the journey as it would take some hours to get down. Touou’s palace sat almost at the top of a mountain, surrounded by a dense forest. The palace itself was well-protected, a massive fortress that was then converted into a home for its ruling family centuries before.

After getting dressed, Satsuki again appeared to examine him, to make sure he looked presentable. Much like with how he hardly cared for public opinion, he also didn’t usually put much thought to his appearance except to make sure that he was decent. He stood for her scrutiny, trying not to look too bored at what she was doing though it wasn’t fun how she poked and pulled at bits and pieces of his clothing when she thought it appropriate.

“Satsuki, I thought I was late.” He reminded her, eying her with a bit of impatience and irritation as she circled him for probably the 20th time. “And where’s my coffee?”

Pink eyes snapped up at him with a glare. “Stop acting like a spoiled brat, Dai-chan! I’m just making sure you look perfect!”

Her voice was a touch too shrill, her movements a bit too snappish. They grew up together and Daiki knew the signs when Satsuki was worried. She always did show her concern in ways that weren’t always particularly pleasant for the people it was for though she meant well. Sighing another sigh, he reached and gently laid a hand over her head. She may be older, but he was taller and he had always sworn to protect her no matter what.

“It’ll be all right.” Giving comfort was never really something he was particularly good at but with Satsuki he always just seemed to know what to do. Under his careful touch, she seemed to relax a little and he watched with a bit of exasperation when her shoulders started heaving.

“Dai-chan, you’re getting married.” She looked up at him then and he wasn’t surprised when he found tears. Satsuki was never an attractive crier, her face got splotchy and her nose very red. And when she cried, she really went all out. “I can’t believe you’re finally going to stop being so irresponsible and stubborn and getting married!”

It was as if putting on one of his best shirts was for naught when Satsuki only ruined it with her clutching at him and crying, wailing aloud. He had a lot of shirts so he left her to it, petting her hair gently as he stood and waited for her to get ahold of herself. It wasn’t like Satsuki cried for too long when it was out of happiness anyway and he knew she was happy for him, happier about everything than he could ever really be.

After a while, she stopped, tired but comforted, leaning against him still and clinging like she didn’t want to let go. She wiped at her face when he checked to see if she was feeling better. Her nose was still red and wiping at her face probably made things worse.

“I don’t know how Ootsubo is able to stare at that face everyday.”

That earned him a harsh slap on his arm but he grinned because he knew she was all right. His arm stung a little and she was looking at him with a prim little pout.

“For your information, Taisuke is happy to be able to look at this face everyday.”

That made him laugh and soon she was smiling and for a moment it seemed like they were just children again, unconcerned of adult things such as marriages and alliances. Sometimes, Daiki found himself missing those days; everything was so simple back then.

She brought him back when she touched his arm. There was a gentle, proud smile on her face and a part him almost felt bad about really not deserving it. “You’ll be late. You shouldn’t keep your bride waiting.”

He was engaged to be married and was betrothed to someone he had never met, never even seen, for the good of his kingdom and the happiness of his people. It had really come to this and there was nothing he could do about it, which meant he would just have to continue on moving forward.

He didn’t delay himself anymore as he went to change his shirt without being told and when he was finished, his cup of coffee was waiting for him.

There was really little time to waste. 

 

* * *

 

He had made the trip down the mountain many times and on a horse who knew the way, the journey wasn’t hard. In fact, he enjoyed it. It was familiar and the weather was just right, not too hot, not too cold. The sweet scent of flowers was in the air and the blooms were beautiful, a blanket of blue and white against the lush greenery of the forest itself. His horse was moving at a steady pace, a bit slower than he liked but there was a reason for that. His sword was at his hip, a familiar and comforting weight. There should be no need to draw it today but it added to the pleasant atmosphere surrounding him and the group that came with him to meet the visitors from Kaijo.

Daiki had no need for guards but today was a special day and they had special visitors so an escort was appropriate. Touou, which was mostly known for its fearsome army and richness in gold and precious stones, also prided itself in being welcoming and hospitable. Guests were always welcomed and treated well so aside from an armed escort, their guests from Kaijo would be treated to a sample of Touou hospitality.

They were able to make it in time but by then the sun was up and the riders were feeling in need of some rest and watering themselves. The meeting place was well-sheltered by tall trees and greenery but nevertheless a more welcoming site was prepared. The men worked quickly and soon a spacious tent stood for better shelter. Low tables were brought out and cushions for sitting were placed over a carpet unravelled over the flat forest floor. Food and drink was distributed for the party: freshly baked flat bread, salty white cheese, fresh black and green olives and a white bean paste swished with olive oil, coupled with fragrant tea or coffee. It was a simple meal fit for breakfast but Daiki didn’t mind it and minded it less that he was eating with his men. Despite being a prince who grew up opulently, he was mostly simple and really didn’t want for anything much so long as he was eating good food and being able to sleep well.

But this was of course just for the Touou faction; the arrangements for their visitors were a bit more intricate as of course there was a need to impress. Daiki may not care much but he understood and so he allowed the preparations to continue while he prepared himself for his bride’s arrival.

It wasn’t long before his scouts came back with word that a party bearing Kaijo’s colors was sighted near their location. Shoichi was also spotted among them along with his own men and he looked well. Daiki nodded at this information and gave out the command to be ready.

He stood from his seat from within the tent, walking past the carefully controlled hubbub around him. Despite this, it felt like any other day. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, he was surrounded by men he commanded with a sword at his hip and he felt at peace, resigned. He stopped by the entrance to the glade, gaze fixed at the path before him just as the trampling hooves of horses could be heard from a near distance. And then he waited but he really didn’t have to wait long.

Riders in blue and white on beautiful white horses galloped into view and they slowed upon spotting the party that stood before them in welcome. The horses were maneuvered to the side, making way for the richly appointed carriage in the middle. It stopped some distance away, far enough that Daiki had to walk more than ten steps to reach its door. The carriage sat there quietly as the rest of the riders filed in, followed by Shoichi’s own entourage. All eyes were on the carriage door and they waited.  

When all was quiet and still, a dark-haired man stepped down from the front seat of the carriage beside the driver. He made his way to the door of the carriage and with little ceremony, opened it.

Daiki had his gaze turn to the man calmly holding the door of the carriage, the carriage that carried his bride through the long distance from Kaijo and past the desert that divided them. When the man spoke, it was with a surprisingly strong and clear voice that rang through the forest,

“I present to you,

His Highness,

Kise Ryouta,

Prince of Kaijo.” 

 

* * *

 

_Did Daiki ever think about what his future bride would be like? Of course he had. Just because he had no interest in marriage at the present time didn’t mean that he never thought about it. As a boy who grew up on the whirlwind love story of his mother and his father, the King of Touou, he had his own ideas of what he wanted for a bride. When he was but a little boy, he thought she would be like his mother, beautiful, kind and sweet, who loved him with all her heart. He would bring her flowers everyday because she loved them and he would always want her to be happy._

_As he grew older, his ideals changed, formed by his needy and confusing adolescence and all that came with it. Aside from being beautiful, kind and sweet, she must also have big breasts and a body he would love holding against him. And then she must want to start going through the rituals of making children right away._

_As a grown man, he grew to care little for marriage as he was a prince who could have anyone see to his needs when he wanted it and he realized that the perfect combination of beautiful, kind, sweet and lusty just wasn’t possible. Besides, a wife sounded more trouble than she was worth the older he got and pretty soon, he was convinced that he had no need for one._

_Still, he was expected to marry and he himself had his own expectations. None of them was that his bride would be a man._

 

* * *

 

The stillness in the glade was stifling, the silence deafening. It was as if the whole world conspired to make this moment as shocking as possible to be fully absorbed by all those involved.

Daiki’s bride stood by the carriage after alighting gracefully from the open door. His bride was tall, slender with the famed golden hair and fair skin of Kaijo’s Kises. Daiki had no expectations for bust size but the flatness of what could be seen even from where he was was undeniable.

His bride stood tall and regal in finery fit for a Prince as he seemed to wait. For a quick, incredulous, paranoid moment, Daiki wondered what could it be that he was waiting for? Someone to cry foul and outrage? To be struck down where he stood for merely the fact that he was there? For Daiki himself to drop dead in shock?

What was his bride, His Highness, Kise Ryouta of Kaijo, waiting for?

Somehow, he found himself moving forward. It didn’t take long for him to cross the more-than-ten-step distance that was between them and the next thing he knew, he was looking into wide golden eyes on a too beautiful face. And yes, Kaijo’s Prince Ryouta was beautiful, there was no doubt about that. He must be the prettiest man he had ever seen; he didn’t even seem real at all.

But the skin under his fingertips was soft and warm when he reached forward to tilt that face up better, to get an even better look. That soft, surprised gasp was real too, the way he felt breath ghost against his own skin. Then those eyes were looking at him, wide, confused, almost frightened, and something in him just…

“Shoichi.” He called out to his half-brother though he had barely acknowledged him since he had arrived.

“Aomine.” The returned acknowledgement came quick as expected.

There was a bit of silence as Daiki continued on looking at Prince Ryouta, taking in who and what he was. “...Is this my bride?”

“Yes.”

He needed no other confirmation and their fate was sealed.

“He’ll do.”


	3. Chapter 3

It took a few moments for the words to sink in.

“What do you mean, _I’ll do_ ,” ended up being the ignominious first words Ryouta ever said to Aomine.

But in his defence, that was _really rude_. He’d _do_? _He’d do?!_

Aomine was staring at him really intensely. It was kind of embarrassing; especially with the way he had his fingers under Ryouta’s chin, tipping his face up. They weren’t _that_ far apart in height, was that really necessary?

Then the expression on his face broke, and the corner of his mouth tilted into a smirk, and an eyebrow lifted. “You protest? Do you wish for poetry, my bride?”

This had gone out of his control way too quickly, and Ryouta didn’t know what to expect from this man at all. He spoke like a prince, that was certain, but something about him was putting Ryouta off his usual charming game, leaving him feeling, for the first time in what felt like his entire life, lost for words.

“We-well, _no_ , but...”

The man was still holding his face. “I’m sure they’ll make poetry of you soon enough.”

Okay. Okay, Ryouta could do this. Pretend Aomine’s not touching him. Or at the very least that it didn’t _matter_ that he was. He’s just like every other nobleman or woman he’s met, remarking on his beauty as if they’re the first to ever think to tell him.

“I don’t need it,” he said. “People have already written enough terrible poetry about my sisters and I.”

Aomine laughed. Good. That was a good reaction. “Kaijo’s poets are terrible?”

Ryouta shrugged his shoulders and gave a half-smile. “Well, they’re not _terrible_. They’re a little over-fond of the light motif. It’s somewhat uninspired, especially considering that one of my sisters’ names is Hikaru.”

Aomine looked nice when he smiled. “We’ll let the poets know that you don’t like that, then.”

He found himself flummoxed again. Actually, his mind was coming to a complete halt whenever the reason he was here was referenced, flatly refusing to acknowledge the reality of what was going on here.

“W-wait, what? _What_?”

He could feel, rather than see or hear, Kasamatsu’s amusement, and his cheeks felt like they were burning.

Aomine looked away from him for a moment, choosing instead to look at the rest of Ryouta’s travelling companions. “You’re all probably tired. Take some time to rest, have something to eat and drink. There’s still some ways to go before we’ll reach our destination.” He paused, and looked back at Ryouta before he added, “Oh, and welcome to Touou.”

The people around them began to disperse – Kise watched as Kasamatsu followed Imayoshi, who he was on alarmingly good terms with. He’s stuck here; he felt like he was trapped by the hand which was still touching him.

“Why are you still touching my face?” he muttered. He didn’t feel like he could look away, although he wanted to.

“Because it’s a nice face, and I like looking at it,” Aomine told him, as if it was nothing; but he let go then, and Ryouta couldn’t help the small sigh of relief; the trapped feeling has lessened, now that the touch is gone.

He took the opportunity he’d been afforded to move away from Aomine now that he wasn’t feeling paralysed by his touch, and slid his way past him. He wasn’t going to think about the things that his brain couldn’t process right now. He was going to put on his courtier’s smile, and engage with these people who’d come to meet him, and he was _not_ going to think about how Aomine had said _he’d do_.

Most of their company seemed to be converging on a large tent, which was probably where the food and drink was, so he wandered over there too.

There was a table set; most people seemed to have settled down. It was obvious, though, that Aomine was expected to sit at the head of the table, and that he was expected to sit next to him. Imayoshi was settled to the right hand side of the table, as his station would demand; Kasamatsu was sitting next to him.

Aomine brushed past him to enter, and took his place easily. Ryouta had to try and surreptitiously take a deep breath and steel himself as he took his own spot.

Across from him, he could have sworn he saw Imayoshi’s mouth twitch.

And then he looked around, and there were no forks, or spoons, or knives.

None of the people from Touou seemed particularly concerned by the lack of _essential table settings_ , so Ryouta had to come to the quick and terrifying realisation that this was, in fact, entirely normal, and that—

“Here.”

His head jerked to look to his right, where Aomine was sitting with an amused look on his face. Aomine reached over and grabbed his hands, and Ryouta was completely confused, like, _what was he doing_ , and then his hands were in a bowl of water. He looked down; the water had flower petals in it.

He looked back up at Aomine. He was _smirking_ at him, and then Ryouta jolted as he felt Aomine’s fingers rubbing over his hands, and he felt blood rush to his face as Aomine’s rough fingers took the liberty of exploring his own hands; which he knew looked delicate, though they hid some roughness of their own. He saw his expression take on a little surprise as he brushed over the toughened skin from where he held his blade.

This was so embarrassing. He felt like he could feel everyone staring at him. He wanted to jerk his hands away, he wanted to make Aomine _stop_ , but that would look bad. Aomine wasn’t doing anything mean, or cruel. In fact, he was being incredibly kind. Was that why it was so difficult?

Finally, Aomine lifted his hands from the water, and Ryouta was pretty sure he was going to die from embarrassment, because now he was drying them, and _why_.

He didn’t really know what to do with his hands with Aomine holding them and making a _spectacle_.

And then Aomine let them go, and he was still smirking at him, and Ryouta pulled his hands back and tried to ignore the way that he felt so unsettled by Aomine’s gaze.

People around them stopped looking and started eating soon after. Ryouta couldn’t help but feel somewhat at a loss for what to do, though, despite watching the other people. He _was_ hungry though, even if he’d had to spend the morning in the carriage instead of riding like he had the other days.

“Ryouta.”

He responded pretty much on reflex to his name, and turned towards the voice. “Hmm?”

Aomine was leaning towards him. “Open.”

“Wha—“ he started to ask, but then, quick as a snake, there was food in his mouth, and even as he closed his mouth because sitting there with an open mouth full of food was _unsightly_ , he could feel the mortification of _being fed_ sinking into his bones. He reached up to fiddle with the earring he had – a nervous habit he’d thought he’d managed to kick - and tried not to be so aware of the way Aomine was leaning towards him, an arm resting on the corner of the table, the way he was looking at him and smiling at him. There was something predatory about it.

“How do you like it?” he asked. It wasn’t _fair_ , the way the other prince was so _casual_ about this. “I like this one best of what we’ve got today.”

“It’s nice,” Ryouta managed to get out after swallowing. “I like it.”

“And you like men, right?”

He _probably_ would have choked if there was food in his mouth. As it was, he kind of just wished that he could sink into the ground and disappear, because Aomine had just bluntly asked in front of at least thirty people about his sexual preferences and that was _definitely not meal time conversation_ , let alone a conversation to be had in front of other people.

And that didn’t even start to cover the whole bit where he wasn’t even _sure_ about that whole part, but how was he supposed to say, _I didn’t think it would matter if I did or not because I never thought you’d want to marry me,_ without it sounding really bad.

“I like... people,” he answered, slowly and delicately, refusing to look anyone in the eye.

“Ah, so you like both, then?” Aomine continued to ask, and why was this Ryouta’s life. Why. What god did he anger to end up in this position, with Kasamatsu and a dozen of his guard sitting there listening to this barbarian prince ask him this.

“I really don’t feel comfortable discussing this in front of other people,” he said. Okay. He can take control of this situation, and stop it. He’s seen enough shy innocent maidens around Kaijo’s court to replicate their shy smiles and embarrassed head-ducking, the way they fiddle with their fingers and look up from underneath their eyelashes.

“They’ll forget everything if I tell them to,” Aomine pointed out. They probably would, too, and Ryouta almost feels like he’s lost the engagement, lost the battle and the war when it occurs to him.

“Not everyone here belongs to you.”

Aomine hummed, and picked up something else from the table. He probably should have been expecting it when he reached over to touch his face, to tilt it back up to look at him again and then press at the corner to make him open his mouth, but he wasn’t, and was the embarrassment never going to end?

It didn’t appear so when Aomine’s fingers began lingering around his lips and inside his mouth and he kind of wanted to bite the digits to see if it would deter him, but Ryouta had a sinking feeling it wouldn’t go over that well. Or maybe it would go over too well.

He wasn’t sure which one would be worse.

Aomine didn’t seem to be getting tired of this either. Was he even eating anything? He watched him from under his eyelashes as he chewed. Yes – he was eating while Ryouta was chewing on his food, and watching him as he did so. He caught Ryouta watching, too, and he grinned.

Ryouta looked back at his hands quickly.

“So, I’ve never been to Kaijo,” Aomine commented. “What’s it like?”

A safe conversation topic. He grinned and threw himself into it.

“Oh, well, I’m not sure the land is quite as pretty as here, but the ocean view is really wonderful. I like looking out at the sunset over the water. And the beaches are all really wonderful, although no one ever wants to go swimming with me. They always say it’s too much trouble, that it’s not safe, all these other things.” He pouted. “Like, this is _why_ I have a guard, isn’t it? But Nee-chan doesn’t trust anyone but Kasamatsu to protect me.”

Ryouta saw Aomine quirk an eyebrow at him, and wondered if he was thinking about the rough spots on his hands from when he washed them. He clenched his fists, and ducked his head. “Well, Kasamatsu’s been taking care of me for so long, I guess it’s hard for her to trust someone new. And—“ he stopped himself. He wasn’t sure it was the best idea to say, _she knows that I don’t have him wrapped around my fingers like the rest of my guard_.

“And?” Aomine pushed.

Ah, hell with it.

“And, well... she knows he won’t let himself get talked into doing whatever I want,” he finished, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.

 “So you’re a brat,” Aomine commented, grinning.

“Prince Kise is spoiled,” Kasamatsu commented, stifling his laughter rather unsuccessfully from across the table. Apparently that was the only contribution he wished to make to their conversation; he turned back to his previous conversation.

“So mean,” Ryouta sighed, puffing out his cheeks.

Aomine poked one of his cheeks, and he blinked. The gesture had been unexpected, even though Aomine had been touching him already – he’d somehow managed to get used to the touch, to forget it was there, even, but the reminder made him uncomfortable all over again.

But thankfully, it seemed to be about time to head off– the table was being cleared, and the bowl of water to wash your hands with was coming back around. He watched Aomine wash his hands – but rather than let Ryouta wash his own hands, he took them again, and Ryouta was too embarrassed by the way people who _should_ have been tidying up or preparing to leave were _watching_ to pull his hands away and insist that he could do it himself.

As he let Aomine dry his hands, he wondered why it was that it embarrassed him so much. His sisters had often called him shameless; he was pretty sure all his friends had called him so numerous times as well. Yet this sudden, intense and prolonged intimacy with Aomine was setting him on edge, making him nervous and so aware of the gazes settled on him, nervous in a way he didn’t remember ever having been before, having grown up being watched by the eyes of a nation.

Aomine stood first, passing the towel off to someone, and held fast to Ryouta’s hands.

“Up you get, Ryouta,” he said.

He let himself be pulled to his feet, only to discover his grave error. Aomine had pulled him up and _close_.

“Um...”

For a moment, he almost thought Aomine was going to kiss him, right then and there in front of _everyone_ , but then Aomine stepped back, and smirked, and turned to leave the tent.

Ryouta tried not to sigh noticeably.

“Hurry up, your Highness,” Kasamatsu called, looking irritable, and he trotted over.

“I hate it when you call me that,” Ryouta whined, pretty much reflexively. Kasamatsu smacked him lightly over the head as he fell into step with him.

“You planned to ride the rest of the way, right?” Kasamatsu asked, for confirmation. Ryouta nodded.

“It’s boring in the carriage,” he complained. “All you do is sit and wait, and I’d be all alone with no one to talk to.”

“You are seriously the most airheaded prince I’ve ever met,” Kasamatsu muttered.

“That’s not a fair comparison, you’ve only met Akashicchi and Aomine,” Ryouta pointed out. “Do you know who was in charge of my horse?”

Kasamatsu sighed. “Come on.”

Ryouta couldn’t help but be aware of Aomine’s presence as he was led over to where the Kaijo party had left their horses. Was it the—the _thing_ that made him notice him so much? Or did he just have a lot of presence? Some nobles were like that – like Cousin Akashi, who could turn every head when he entered a room, even if he made no noise or large motion.

“Raicchi,” he called as he approached him. Even amongst the other white horses that the other men from Kaijo were riding, Raiden was easy to pick out. He wasn’t the largest there, but he had something of a fierce look to him. He was also known to bite, though he’d never shown any such mean-streak to Ryouta.

Ryouta caressed his face gently and smiled at him. “Did you miss me?”

He could hear one of his guards muttering nearby about still having teeth marks, and grinned.

“You’re such a good boy,” he whispered, running his hand over his neck. “We’re going to play together now, won’t that be fun?”

“Are you done communing with the beast?” Kasamatsu asked, sounding weary.

“I’m not _communing_ with him,” Ryouta argued, though he took Raiden’s reins in hand and led him away from the other horses, so those who had managed to get into Raiden’s bad books were in no danger of a new set of teeth marks to show off.

“It’s the only explanation I have for the soft spot the nasty thing has for you,” Kasamatsu grumbled.

“Raicchi’s not nasty!” he cried, making a half-hearted attempt at getting his arms around the horse’s neck. “He’s _lovely_.”

Kasamatsu rolled his eyes, but edged warily past Raiden to get his steed anyway.

As the group set off, Ryouta found himself once again separated from his friend, riding instead beside Aomine. He knew Raiden could sense his unease with the situation, and he tried to soothe him with a hand on his neck as he fidgeted.

It was unusual that he would ride at the head of the column; usually wherever Ryouta went, there would be a guard or two in front of him. It was almost strange, the emptiness in front of him. Clearly it was believed that in the unlikely event that they were attacked, Aomine would be more than capable of ensuring his safety.

The column was noisy as it moved, and the pace was sedate. Ryouta could feel Raiden itch to race, to get him away from the man that was making Ryouta squeeze him a little tighter than usual.

Silence was never _quite_ amenable to Ryouta, even though the view was very pretty; so he decided to start a conversation.

“You know, I’ve never ridden without someone in front of me before,” he announced.

Aomine looked at him, and seemed amused by his decision to share such meaningless trivia. “Is that so?” he asked.

Ryouta hummed. “It’s nice. I think I like it. It makes everything more open. Even when Raicchi and I were allowed to go race around, I wasn’t allowed in open spaces.” He pouted. “And they wonder why I’m always bored...”

“I could think of a few ways to keep you entertained,” Aomine commented. There was something that was probably supposed to be seductive mixed in with the smirk accompanying the remark.

Ryouta felt himself flush, and ducked his head. God, he’d made a mistake. He’d made a terrible, terrible mistake that he was going to have to live with for the rest of his life.

“So, getting back to that question before,” Aomine interrupted his train of thought, and Ryouta felt his stomach pre-emptively dropping in anxiety. “You like both, right?”

The riders behind them – Imayoshi and Kasamatsu – were too far away to hear their conversation over the ambient sound of the travelling group. He wasn’t going to be able to play the ‘other people’ card again. And... it was only fair, he supposed.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I’ve never really... and... I’ve always known that my duty to Kaijo came first. My oldest sister sits on the throne already. My other sister married recently. The offer was one not easily passed by. I’ve been headed for a political marriage probably my whole life.”

He would probably twist his fingers together if he didn’t think Raiden would act up without a hold on him. As it was, Raiden fidgeted and tossed his head, looking at Aomine.

“No biting,” Ryouta chided him, patting his neck.

He wondered if Aomine understood what it was that he was actually saying, underneath the words. He had turned silent, and Ryouta felt intensely uncomfortable.

“I’m just saying that this set up was kind of unexpected,” he blurted out, and _god_ , what happened to that person he was at home, charming everyone who he came into contact with? Maybe it was the way Aomine approached him differently to how anyone else ever had, but it left him feeling defenceless, because all his weapons were useless. “And I never expected...”

He took a deep breath, and willed himself to calm down. A hard ask, for sure, but. “I’m... I’ll do what is best for Kaijo,” he said, and willed himself to sound strong.

Aomine made a humming noise. He didn’t look at him, and then—

“Let’s race.”

Ryouta grinned. “Raicchi and I won’t lose,” he promised.

 

* * *

 

Ryouta was usually of the opinion that if you’ve seen one castle, that you’ve seen all of them.

He’d lived in the palace in Kaijo’s capital for most of his life; while it wasn’t a marvel like the Imperial Palace of Rakuzan, it _was_ beautiful. He’d spent time in the Imperial Palace too, visiting with Cousin Akashi, and in some of Kaijo’s other castles which belonged to the royal family.

The home of Touou’s royal family was different from these structures.

He let his eyes wash over the building, the walls and the surroundings as it came into better view. Even from here, he could tell it wasn’t like the castles he’d lived in before.

Part of him ached for the familiar outline of Kaijo’s palace on the skyline and the blue of the open sea; it had been a few days since they’d left, and only now did he realise that he may not see that palace or the sea for a very long time.

Still, this was no place or time to dwell on such things; he had people to meet when they arrived, and they _were_ arriving. He had a game face to put on, even though Aomine riding next to him was quiet and it unnerved him.

He’d been quiet ever since they’d raced ahead, and Ryouta still felt a smile tug at him as he remembered how Kasamatsu had yelled as they’d taken off, how Raiden had made him feel like the wind over the waves as they charged ahead, with no walls or guards in sight.

He wanted to close his eyes and tip his head back and hold onto that feeling, where he felt powerful and sure again; nothing like he’d felt since the moment Aomine had touched him and accepted him. But Raiden would surely take the opportunity to wander closer to Aomine and his steed to try and bite him, as he’d been attempting all afternoon, so instead he petted him and smiled.

He wasn’t sure what kind of greeting he was going to be getting from the rest of Aomine’s half-siblings. He didn’t even really know what to expect of them; Imayoshi and Aomine were _very_ different, and Imayoshi had somehow managed to evade giving him much of any useful information about his family as they’d travelled.

The guards waved at Aomine as they rode through the gates, and Ryouta took a steadying breath, attempting to calm the nerves that were upon him. In-laws. He was going to meet his in-laws. The fact that they were royalty meant little to him – he was the cousin of the ruler of the most powerful Empire on the continent, royal company was nothing – but _in-laws_.

That was a different beast.

He waited until Aomine dismounted to follow suit; as some stableboys came over, he smiled at the one who approached him.

“Raicchi’s a bit of a biter,” he told the boy who came over for him. “Be careful. I’m really sorry if he manages to get you.”

The boy went pink as he passed the reins over to him, and Ryouta smiled to try and make him relax. This only made the boy go redder, and he tugged Raiden away. Ryouta laughed quietly as he watched Raiden take his first attempt at biting the boy.

Straightening up, he held the smile and turned towards the small gathering of people. Kasamatsu was standing with the rest of his guard.

“Hello,” he greeted them, smiling. This was nothing new; he’d introduced himself to foreign diplomats very often at Kaijo, and he ended up naturally sinking back into his skin. “I’m Prince Kise Ryouta of Kaijo. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He could see the way that a few of them looked at Imayoshi, attempting to do so without bringing notice to it. He only noticed because he was very aware that these people were going to take the places of Rika and Hikaru in his life, and he was standing there almost just awaiting their judgement. The pink-haired woman – who must have been Aomine’s sole sister, Princess Momoi Satsuki – came over, smiling.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Ki-chan!” she said, and she clasped his hands in hers. “We’re so happy that you’ve come. I’m Momoi Satsuki, but you probably already knew that, right?”

“Ah, yes,” Ryouta said. He found the way she was holding his hands reminded him of Rika, and some of his nerves disappeared.

“Let me get you all organised! Your rooms are all prepared, I’ll have your companions shown where to go. Your rooms are closer to ours, of course, though not inappropriately so. I’m sure you’re tired from all of your travelling, right?”

“A little,” he admitted, somehow feeling a little like he’d just been swept up into a fierce storm.

“We’ll just do some quick introductions, then,” the princess said him, and pulled him closer to the gathering. “But you’ve met Shoichi already, of course, since you travelled with him, and Dai-chan came to meet you today. But next to Shoichi is my brother, Prince Susa Yoshinori, and next to him are our half-brothers, Prince Wakamatsu Kousuke, and Prince Sakurai Ryou.”

“It’s lovely to meet you,” Ryouta repeated.

“Yes,” said Susa. “Likewise.”

Momoi tugged at his hands. “Come on, Ki-chan. Dinner isn’t too far away either, and I’m sure you’d like a rest before it.”

It was nice to have someone take charge of everything. Momoi let go of his hands, but he smiled at the princes before he followed after her into the castle. He noticed Aomine following them too.

As they walked, Ryouta became convinced that he was going to get lost here, which was going to be a little bit embarrassing.

“Ah, your home is very beautiful,” he said as they walked. He caught her smile as she looked at him.

“It is, isn’t it?” she said. “I’ve never seen the royal palace in Kaijo myself, but I’ve heard it’s a lovely sight.”

It was interesting to hear someone talk about home. “Oh, it is,” he agreed. “If you’re looking from the right way, it makes a really lovely view over the sea. I’ll have to ask my sister to send some paintings. Something to keep my family with me, you know?”

She nodded. “I’d love to see, if she does.”

“She will,” Ryouta whispered, grinning and leaning over as if telling her a secret. “Nee-chan spoils me horribly.”

“That’s what older siblings are for, I think,” Momoi replied in a similar fashion, and Ryouta laughed.

He watched as she glanced back at Aomine, who was resolutely silent behind them.

Somewhat thankfully, since things had started to feel a little uncomfortable again, they seemed to have arrived at where he was going to be staying.

“I’ll come fetch you to take you to dinner, Ki-chan,” Momoi said, smiling. “In the mean time, feel free to make yourself comfortable. Your things will probably get brought up soon, or while we’re at dinner.”

“Thank you,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. He left the door open as they left and he explored the room; it was richly furnished and decorated, which was only to be expected, considering that he was going to be occupying it. He collapsed onto the bed and sighed before rubbing his face.

Momoi had been really lovely to him. If they were at home – no, this was home now, he told himself. This castle was going to be his home for the rest of his life. If they were in Kaijo, he would probably bring her flowers from his courtyard to say thank you.

A wave of homesickness washed over him, and he buried his face in the pillows. It smelled different; felt different. The air was different too, not as crisp as the air at home, which was always fresh off the ocean. He would never call Kaijo’s palace home again; he would only ever be a visitor, even though he was family. He wouldn’t wake up every late morning to go to the kitchens and get his preferred breakfast from Cook and make her laugh, or flirt with her new kitchen hands because they needed to become acquainted with how he was. He wouldn’t spend his afternoons hiding from Rika and her army of devoted handmaidens, or plan another dance with Hikaru and listen to her talk starry-eyed about her beau. There wouldn’t be arrogant challenges from visiting nobles who’d heard of his prowess in fencing but never once seen him practice in the gallery.

A political marriage with a princess would have brought his wife to Kaijo’s palace; instead, he had taken the place of a bride and followed her path to the new husband’s keep, and he hadn’t stopped to think about what he was leaving behind.

For a moment, all that he could feel was loss and loneliness – these people were not his family, they could never be Rika and Hikaru – and bitter tears threatened to choke him.

He sat up and took a shuddering breath – and another, and as many as he had to, to get himself back under control. He was not going to go down to dinner with red, bloodshot eyes, was not going to let everyone know he had been crying, that he was vulnerable. He would put these feelings away again, hide them with every ounce of strength until he was sure he had the time and space to deal with them.

For the first time today, there was some justice in the world. He had put himself back together again by the time Momoi came to fetch him for dinner. She knocked on the door, and, mask and smile in place, Ryouta opened it. She was alone this time, but he didn’t ask about Aomine’s absence, and she didn’t make any excuses about it.

He linked his arm around hers. “Lead on, my lady,” he said, grinning.

She giggled and squeezed his arm close to her. “You’re quite the charmer, aren’t you, Ki-chan?”

“So I’ve been told,” he answered, sighing dramatically. “I’m sure all the ladies at home will be very put out.”

She laughed again. “I’m sure.”

Dinner had much the same arrangement as lunch had. Again, he was expected to sit at Aomine’s side. He was quiet, but the rest of the table was noisy as they chatted. Somewhat thankfully, Momoi sat down next to him.

Ryouta was spared the embarrassment of Aomine washing his hands for him in front of his siblings, which was a great relief. It was also an indicator that he probably wasn’t going to feed him, either; another thing that made him relax a little. But just like at lunch, they were expected to eat by hand, and he felt a little... uncomfortable.

“What’s your sister like? I mean the Queen,” Momoi asked.

Ryouta ignored the pang at the reminder, and smiled brightly. “Nee-chan is incredible,” he said. “I mean it in the best way possible, she’s really amazing. Everyone who’s met all of us always says that she got all the sense that Hikaru and I don’t have, and half of our brains as well.” He laughed. “We’re all well known for being very energetic people, and Rika really devotes herself to the continued smooth and peaceful running of Kaijo. She really loves our country and our people. She was definitely the best one to rule, so we’re all very lucky she was born first!” He winked at Momoi before he continued. “She’s a tough act to follow. Hikaru and I never quite measured up to Rika. Her drive and passion to do what’s best for Kaijo is definitely unbeatable.”

Momoi seemed almost surprised by the way that he’d started speaking so much, but there was softness to the way she smiled as she listened to him speak. “She sounds wonderful,” she commented. “I’d love to meet her.”

“Nee-chan is wonderful,” he said. “I’m very proud of her.”

“I can see that,” Momoi said, laughing. “What about your other sister, then?”

Ryouta hummed and paused, as if thinking. “Well, she’s a bit flightier than Rika,” he told her. “She’s a little bit sillier, less intense. It was her dream to marry the great love of her life, whoever he may be.” He smiled wistfully. “Father and Rika of course wanted her to be happy. She met her husband over at the Rakuzan court last year, and they finally got married a few months ago. She’s been pretty much floating around the palace on the few occasions she’s alone ever since. She’s the heir now, of course, with Rika on the throne. She’s much better suited to it than I am. I get bored really easily, and I hate all the paperwork.”

“You really love your sisters, don’t you, Ki-chan,” Momoi commented. “It’s really sweet. Some boys wouldn’t be so accepting, to have their sisters sit on the throne ahead of them.”

“Well, someone’s got to be able to sit around and look pretty,” Ryouta said, pulling a serious face.

“I wouldn’t have minded if we put Satsuki on the throne, if our laws allowed for such a thing,” Imayoshi said from across the table. Ryouta looked over. He was smiling.

From beside him, Aomine finally spoke. “She’d be welcome to it.” There was a pause, and then he added something further. “Maybe then she and Ryouta would be ones getting married.”

Ryouta blinked, and looked at Momoi. “I don’t think she’s really my type... I don’t mean any offence, Momocchi...”

She smiled at the little addition he’d made to her name, so he figured there was no harm done. But then Aomine snorted from beside him, and when Ryouta looked at him, he was watching him, bored expression on his face. “Types don’t really matter in an arrangement like this, now do they?”

Ryouta felt as if someone had just dumped a bucket of seawater over his head. He hadn’t eaten anything, but his appetite was gone, and he looked down at his hands.

“I suppose not,” he mumbled. Suddenly, everything felt very awkward and uncomfortable, and he desperately wanted to leave.

“Excuse me,” he said quietly. “I’m feeling very tired. I think I’m going to go to my quarters. Thank you.”

He was ninety percent sure that his body could remember the way back, even if his mind couldn’t; he stood and bowed, a perfect courtier’s performance, and left as quickly as he could without seeming rude.

When he finally reached his room, he realised that there were tears running down his cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On the one hand, I revel in Kise's pain.
> 
> On the other hand, I want to whisk him away and coddle him and keep him safe from my evil machinations.
> 
> Hmm.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, guys! Crissy, cimberelly, here and I would just like to say "thank you" for reading and the numerous comments that just blew us away. We're so glad you're enjoying what we're writing for you. And now you get to see Aomine's side of things again. I hope you enjoy this new chapter as you have enjoyed the previous ones.

Prince Ryouta left the dining room and it was as if everyone waited until his footsteps completely faded before they made a move.

“Dai-chan!” Obviously, Satsuki was the first to react, looking at Daiki with a look of frustration and disappointment and Daiki ignored her. “What was that all about?”

“You seemed to like him well enough when you first met.” Shoichi put in, calm and pleasant as can be. He was still smiling though and Daiki found it hard not to think he wasn't laughing at him in his own way. “Did something happen on our way back here?”

From across him, Kousuke sighed but shrugged in resignation, “What can you expect from Aomine?” Daiki couldn’t help the narrowing of his eyes at the comment. There had never been any love lost between him and Kousuke.

“W-Wakamatsu…” Ryou looked worried, looking around nervously and especially on the still and quiet figure of Daiki at the head of the table.

“That could have gone better, yes.” Yoshinori said with his usual quiet sternness but left it at that when others could have said more.

“Dai-chan.” Satsuki prompted him but Daiki has had enough, of this day, of this whole fiasco. Wiping his hands clean, he threw the dirtied napkin carelessly down on his place on the table and stood up.

“I’m tired. I’ll be in my chambers.”

And he left the same way Prince Ryouta did.

 

* * *

 

Aomine Daiki never had to suffer rejection.

Well, there were times when his attentions weren’t particularly appreciated but during those times, he wasn’t really bothered. Much as he was a Prince who was used to getting what he wanted, he also never deigned to force himself on anyone as he didn’t need to. If they refused him then there was always someone to take their place. The line was long for those who wanted to warm the Crown Prince’s bed and he had plenty to choose from. He was never really bothered when he wasn’t wanted. That was, until now.

He didn’t know what it was about Prince Ryouta that stung him when he had answered his very straightforward questions. It made sense that Prince Ryouta was doing this for Kaijo; he was only here to secure an alliance for Kaijo. He wouldn’t be here but for that and Daiki knew that. It wasn’t as if Prince Ryouta refused to marry him; he would still be his despite everything he thought about their union. And if he did actually reject the marriage, it wasn’t just him Prince Ryouta was rejecting but also all of Touou. Nothing about it was personal. So why was he acting like a spoiled brat denied his favorite toy? Why did he just feel so incensed?

Prince Kise Ryouta of Kaijo was beautiful, charming and he was here as his bride. They will be wed and it was to bind their kingdoms into a strong alliance.  Nothing more, nothing less and he should not expect anything else, though he really had no idea what it was he felt he expected or that he expected anything at all. Why had he gotten so upset?

Telling himself why he shouldn’t feel this way did not help his mood any and all throughout the informal dinner with his siblings, he had been quiet and barely paid his bride any mind. Or at least Prince Ryouta never noticed when he was watching him. Still, it had been very different from when they had first met when he had even washed the Prince’s hands and fed him as if there was already that kind of intimacy between them. And then Shoichi decided to be smart and draw him into conversation. From there, everything just went to Hell as expected given how Daiki didn't care to censure himself when he was in a sour mood as he had been.

He was just so frustrated and it frustrated him even more that he didn’t understand why he was feeling like this. It wasn’t as if he had fallen in love with the foreign Prince because that was stupid and his life wasn’t a fairytale. No, he wasn’t in love but he was being pathetic anyway. Knowing that did not stop him from brooding on it all still. He couldn’t stay in his chambers as he said he would and instead took to wandering around the palace hallways in ways that made most anyone who saw him nervous. It was never good when the Crown Prince prowled the halls like the Dark Panther he was often called and they stayed out of his way.

He had probably been going about his brooding for some time when his feet somehow decided to take him down the direction of a certain hallway leading to a certain set of rooms. It was quiet there and given the hour, it was a bit of a surprise since these rooms were usually a bit noisier. Daiki found out why soon enough when he was greeted by a woman exiting one of the rooms who shook her head when she saw him.

“He slept too much again, my Prince.” The woman said with a bit of an unimpressed but fond look on her face. The expression and the words made Daiki smirk, amused.

“He should be hungry. Bring him something light to eat.” Glancing outside through the wide windows beside him made him rethink his decision. “No, bring him dinner. It’s late and he would be hungry.”

The woman looked at him with some hesitation, “But my Prince… the Princess…”

He easily waved away her concerns. “I’ll take care of Satsuki and if he ends up being trouble later on tonight, just give him to me.”

The woman inclined her head then did as she was bid. Meanwhile, Daiki continued into the room. The room was a smaller than his own but then it just made sense as its occupant was smaller as well though it also had the beautiful view his room had. At one side of the room was a bed and on the bed was a little boy. He had dark hair like Daiki’s, the same tanned, sun-kissed skin and he watched Daiki enter and come closer with round blue eyes. He only blinked once then yawned when Daiki decided to lie down too, not bothered that he now had to share the bed with someone much larger. It wasn’t as if the bed couldn’t hold them both and more.

For some time, Daiki kept quiet, staring up at the ceiling above the bed where one of the court artists painted a scene of dragons flying across the sky.

“...You’re getting a…” He started speaking then stopped, rethinking his words. “I’m getting married.”

A quiet, tiny voice answered with a soft hum and Daiki looked toward the boy who was also looking at him, watching him with those eyes that didn’t look at all sleepy now.

“Yes…” Daiki responded because there wasn’t really any other way to respond to that look.

“You’re sad.” The boy suddenly pointed out, a small hand coming forward to touch Daiki’s face and he leaned into it a little. It was a comforting gesture, small as it was, and he tried not to feel to pathetic about getting comfort from a four year old.

“It’s complicated…”

“...Don’t get married?” It was most possible that the boy didn’t understand the word but could tell that it wasn’t good. His head tilted, looking at Daiki curiously as to what he’d say to that.

Daiki sighed. If only it were that easy and he put it in words that the boy will surely understand. “Your Aunt Satsuki will kill me if I don’t.”

The answer he got was a tiny shrug. “Then get married.”

Daiki groaned, wishing he could just turn over, hide his head under a pillow and stay like that forever. To compromise, he put his arm up over his eyes. Children had it so easy. “Yes. I will.”

“Father?”

The quiet address made him pause. Sometimes it was still strange to hear himself being addressed that way even if he had taken in the boy beside him three years ago. He turned his head, looking into near identical blue eyes.

“What, Daichi?”

Aomine Daichi, son of Crown Prince Aomine Daiki, looked at his Father with a bit of a firm look as if he expected that Daiki would do as he was about to say. The apple did not fall far from the tree, it seemed.

“Smile.”

The command was given firmly, not giving any room for protest or disobedience, and despite himself, Daiki had to smile a little, feeling some tension in him dissipate. He chuckled softly.

“You’re ridiculous.” Because he was with his suddenly too serious and commanding face but Daichi seemed to think otherwise, that tiny nose scrunching up into a frown.

“Your face is ridiculous.”

Daiki laughed because that look on such a little face was hilarious, “Well it’s also your face, so you are ridiculous.”

Daichi was quick to protest, sitting up quickly. “It’s not!”

“Is too!”

Satsuki will most probably talk his ear off again in the morning, for exciting Daichi and thus having him too awake for his usual bedtime on top of napping too much in the afternoon into the evening, but for now, Daiki wasn’t going to think about that. He let Daichi distract him from the other things that happened today, losing himself in his son’s chatter and play. His son always have had that effect on him, making him forget even just for a while the less than pleasant things that happened in his life.

 

* * *

 

The official welcoming feast for Prince Ryouta and his entourage was to take place the next night. For now, Prince Ryouta and his entourage were given rooms and encouraged to relax and get a good night’s sleep. It was a bit late, well past dinner, and it would make sense if people were preparing to sleep now but Daiki had gotten restless too after spending time with Daichi. He left the boy to his nurse for a while, promising to return for Daichi if Daichi was still awake when he was done with what he planned to do.

It took him a few hours and more words of simple wisdom from Daichi (“You should ‘pologize if you're a jerk.”) for him to get over his mood completely and to come to a plan of action.  And he was never one to wait when there was the possibility of getting things done. Besides, he felt that this couldn’t wait until morning, never mind after the welcoming feast. It wasn’t right of him to ignore his bride, even when something his bride said upset him. They were to be wed and it wouldn’t do for them to start on the wrong foot. They would be together for the rest of their lives and while Prince Ryouta probably had no interest in becoming his wife in all ways of the word, he should still be there to support him. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like for Prince Ryouta who had to leave home and everything familiar to be here. He would need all the support he could get and Daiki should be the one to provide the most of it if he could.

He walked down the hallways, easily locating Prince Ryouta’s room, and after just a bit of hesitation, reached over and knocked on the door. It didn’t take too long before the door opened a little and he found himself face to face with Prince Ryouta himself who was looking bleary eyed and sleepy, eyes looking tired and bloodshot as if he were crying. Had he been crying all this time? That just made him feel even worse.

He knew what he wanted to do, he knew what he was going to say, but for some reason the words weren’t coming. He was probably standing there like an idiot for too long because suddenly, Prince Ryouta was looking more awake and definitely alarmed,

“What are you wearing?”

Daiki had to look away from the ridiculous sight Prince Ryouta made then, practically hiding behind the door and watching him guardedly as if he would pounce and force his way in. He looked down at what he was wearing. He had taken off most of his clothes after dinner, save for a thin shirt that bared his arms and a bit of his chest. He was wearing loose pants and his favorite pair of boots. What was wrong with what he was wearing? Admittedly, he looked a lot less put together than when Prince Ryouta first saw him but he was at home and it was late. He could afford to look less than immaculate, especially in front of the one he was promised to wed. Or at least he thought so.

“...Clothes?” He soon found himself replying to the other Prince’s question, quirking an eyebrow curiously. He had noticed that while Prince Ryouta seemed taken with the exotic (for him) sights of Touou, their ways were extremely foreign to him and made him uncomfortable. Was this another one of those things that the other Prince found strange?

There was a mutinous, almost petulant look on Prince Ryouta’s face now as he continued to look at him warily, “You’re half naked…” He heard him mumble and if he could, Daiki would laugh.

“Because you can see my bare arms?” He may not all out laugh at Prince Ryouta since he was trying to be careful with him but the blond Prince was just too easy to tease. He had half a mind to flex his arms for Prince Ryouta’s benefit. “You don’t like them, my Prince?

Prince Ryouta didn’t find him funny at all, if that peeved frown he was getting was any indication. Of course the blond Prince still looked pretty when he was frowning; it was almost annoying.

“What do you want?” he asked, less polite than he had been earlier on in the day but Daiki couldn’t really blame him. He was probably exhausted from the day he had and here was his unexpected ass of a groom, coming to bother him in the middle of the night and making fun of him to boot after humiliating him in front of his new in-laws. The question made him remember why he was there in the first place and he felt awkward again though he refused to fidget or look openly uncomfortable.

He forced himself to meet those golden eyes and asked, “Were you about to sleep?” His tone was quiet, holding none of his teasing humor from before, and it seemed to make Prince Ryouta less tense though he still half-stood behind his door.

“I was just about to try, yes.” Prince Ryouta answered before reaching to brush away some of his hair from his eyes and it was as if he was having trouble looking at him. Daiki saw traces of the shyness he first saw when his bride was newly arrived. His gaze was demure but curious when he further inquired, “Did you want to speak with me about something?”

Daiki was glad for that opening and he nodded, “If you’re not too sleepy, then yes. And if you’re open to it, I’d like to show you something.”

Prince Ryouta looked at him quietly and Daiki was almost sure he’d refuse when suddenly, the other Prince nodded.

“All right. Just let me—“ He disappeared from view. Daiki heard the soft rustling of cloth and when the blond Prince came back to the door, he was wearing a silken robe (blue of course) over whatever he was probably going to sleep in bed in. No wonder the other had been shocked at his relaxed appearance. They must always be swaddled up in cloth to their necks back in Kaijo.

“This way.” Daiki said, distracting himself from what Prince Ryouta was wearing and leading him down the hall. It was a short, but quiet walk, neither one of them knowing what to say though it felt like Prince Ryouta was trying to think of a way to break the silence. Daiki didn’t really mind it; he was never really that enthusiastic about small talk though he could do it if he had to. Right now, it was awkward and so Daiki didn’t even bother. They would be awkward until they cleared the air between them.

In the end, Daiki led Prince Ryouta up a flight of stairs that soon revealed to lead up to the palace’s roof. Daiki had heard that palaces in Kaijo had triangular roofs but here in Touou it was different. The roofs were flat and it was possible to walk over them. Parapets that reached just between his waist and shoulders prevented the roof from being extremely dangerous and made it safe for people to stay a while, which was what Daiki intended.

He heard a gasp from behind him and he turned to see Prince Ryouta. The blond Prince had his back to him with his head tilted back. He was looking up at the sky and from that gasp, Daiki knew he was caught by the sight.

Daiki never heard of how the night sky looked in Kaijo but here in Touou, from the royal palace’s roof, it was magical. The sky was dark but not as dark as it could be, not with the numerous stars providing light and a half moon happy enough to join them in their task.

Daiki usually came up to the roof but mostly on nights when he couldn’t sleep between one reason or another. It was a place to think, to be alone, to find peace though Satsuki knew about it and sometimes went up here too to check up on him. She wasn’t around right now; it was just him and… Ryouta and he took him up there to talk. When he went up to join Ryouta, standing beside him, he felt the other Prince tense and then try his best to relax. Daiki almost winced because that was definitely his fault. Clearing his throat, he tried to begin,

“I was an ass.”

There was only a slight pause before Ryouta replied, to the point, “Yes, you were.”

His lips twitched into what could be a bit of a smile. Ryouta being able to be straightforward with him was something that charmed him and remembering this made his next words a bit easier to get out, “And I would like to apologize for my behavior earlier today.”

Daiki felt the other Prince looking at him and when he turned to meet his gaze, he found Ryouta actually smiling at him a little, as if something amused him, “You don’t find it easy to apologize, do you?”

“No.” He sighed, finding that easy to admit. He never felt like he had to apologize for most of the things he did but he did treat Ryouta badly earlier that day and that just didn’t sit well with him after realizing it.

“Then I forgive you.” Ryouta said after a while though Daiki could sense that while he was forgiven, Ryouta would not forget that easily. Daiki found that he was more than all right with that.

They stood in silence for some time after that, the atmosphere between them now more companionable, but it didn’t take long before Ryouta started asking questions about stars and Daiki did his best to answer them. The conversation continued on until Daiki heard a stomach growling and he found Ryouta blushing, embarrassed.

“You’re hungry.” He bluntly pointed out and he watched as Ryouta’s lips turned down into a pout, golden eyes looking at him with reproach from under long lashes.

“I didn’t eat much during dinner…” And Daiki could hear the implied _and it’s your fault_ somewhere around that pout and that admission. It made him grin mischievously nevertheless. Things were a bit better between them now and really, Ryouta was just too easy to tease.

“That’s because I didn’t feed you...” Daiki said breezily as he started leading Ryouta away from the parapets and the night sky to get food. The other Prince muttered and whined about how “mean and embarrassing” he was, cheeks flushed with an embarrassed blush but Daiki only laughed, lighthearted.

It looked like they were off to a good start.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say thank you again to all the people who've left us such lovely comments here, and asks on tumblr, for taking a chance on this AU that we love so much.

Ryouta woke up late.

That wasn’t entirely surprising he had to admit, given that he’d been up rather late last night, speaking with Aomine on the roof while looking at the stars, and the visit to the kitchens; not to mention all the travelling for days beforehand to arrive.

It did feel a little bit uncomfortable though. There was something embarrassing about sleeping late when you still felt like a guest in someone else’s home.

Try as he might, he still couldn’t think of this place as home just yet.

Ryouta kind of wanted to spend the whole day hiding out in this room, but he knew he couldn’t. Even if it was late into the morning, he had appearances to make, and a welcoming feast in the evening, and he would need to start learning about the country and helping with preparations for the... the... the _wedding_.

He pulled the blankets off with a sigh, and sat up, placing his feet firmly on the stone floor. It wasn’t as cold as expected.

And then there was a knock on the door.

He was a little bit surprised that someone was here, but it was kind of fortunate. He opened the door.

It would feel like déjà vu if it wasn’t fully light outside; Aomine was standing in the doorway, wearing much the same kind of attire he was last night, and looking only half-awake.

“Good morning?” Ryouta offered.

Aomine blinked, and looked at him. “Your hair is messy.”

Ryouta puffed out his cheeks and turned away from the door, leaving it open for Aomine to come inside. “Of course it is, I just woke up,” he whined.

Aomine wandered inside, and prodded his cheek before flopping on his bed. “You didn’t seem like the sleep-in type,” he commented. Ryouta turned to his painfully limited wardrobe and sighed.

“I didn’t used to be,” he admitted. “I used to be a morning person, I think.” He picked an outfit and looked it over. Yes, that would do, but first...

“I feel gross,” he sighed. “I need to be clean. But I’m hungry.”

“Oh, baths.” Aomine sat up. “Um. Bring your stuff.”

Ryouta had a bad feeling about this.

Said bad feeling was _entirely justified_ when he discovered that the baths were somewhat public. Family members all shared the baths.

It wasn’t that he was body-shy or self-conscious. Ryouta was more than happy to go swimming, to let people see him, but it was _different_ when you were bathing.

“Um.”

Aomine scratched at the back of his head. “I’m not... this is just how it is,” he said. “I guess it’s different?”

_I can’t do this_.

But he was kind of grimy from travelling, and he’d been able to make himself presentable yesterday, but he _really_ needed to clean up, especially if he was going to be making appearances, and...

“Fine,” he said. “Okay. I’ll... It’s not like I’m hideous or deformed or anything.”

If it sounded an awful lot like he was talking himself out of a freak out, well, it wasn’t anyone’s business.

“You look fine,” Aomine said beside him, and Ryouta willed that he would die on the spot right then and there and made a face to let him know his commentary was unappreciated.

Aomine shrugged.

Ryouta shoved his clothes and towel at him. “You,” he said, “are going to mind these.” He ignored anything but his great desire to be clean, and pulled off his robe, continuing to throw his things at Aomine.

Aomine sighed, but sat himself down to the side on a bench. Ryouta ignored Aomine’s youngest brother, who was looking mildly terrified in the bath.

“I can make Ryou leave if you want,” Aomine offered.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ryouta muttered, divesting himself of the last of his clothes and turning away.

“I’m sorry,” squeaked Prince Sakurai from the other end of the bath.

Ryouta smiled at him as best he could. “It’s alright.”

“I really can leave...”

Ryouta sank into the water and ignored him again.

On the bench, Aomine sighed once more and Ryouta heard his head thunk against the wall.

He bent himself to the task of scrubbing his skin pink and clean, pretending that he was alone and that there wasn’t anyone there to see him going through what he would usually consider to be a _private_ ritual, keeping his eyes trained on his own limbs.

“Ryou,” he heard Aomine grumble. He could hear the other prince squeak. “Leave.”

Ryouta resolutely kept his head ducked down as he heard the splashing sound of Sakurai leaving, along with his apologies.

“You really didn’t have to make him leave,” Ryouta mumbled.

“You were uncomfortable,” Aomine said, “and he was pissing me off.”

“How was he pissing you off? He was barely doing anything.”

“He just was,” Aomine muttered after a long silence.

Ryouta sighed and ducked his head under the water, scrubbing at his hair.

When he finally felt satisfactorily clean, he hummed in contentment. That was much better. He hadn’t even realised that he felt so bad, but being clean made everything nicer. And now he felt up to approaching the rest of the day.

Also he was still hungry.

He got out of the water and had a brief moment of embarrassment as he remembered that Aomine was still in the room, but, he needed his clothes and it was his own fault they were with Aomine, so... he just shrugged it off as best he could and went to fetch them, along with a towel to dry off with.

Clean and dressed, he towelled off his hair and smiled at Aomine. “Breakfast?”

Usually he’d put some more effort into his hair, but he was _really_ hungry now, and it didn’t feel like it was too bad. Probably.

He’d fix it after food.

Aomine stared for a moment, and then shook his head. Ryouta figured he’d just kind of dozed off a little while he was waiting and was shaking himself awake. “Yeah.”

He started walking, and Ryouta trotted to catch up with him and walk beside him.

Breakfast, as it turned out, was a relatively casual affair. As they entered what must be the dining hall, Ryouta saw Momoi sitting at the large table and waved at her.

“Good morning, Momocchi!”

She looked over and smiled. “Good morning, Ki-chan! Come sit with me.” Her eyes flicked to Aomine, but she didn’t say anything about how Ryouta was in a significantly better mood than he had been last night.

He settled down next to her and smiled. “I never had breakfast with other people at – in Kaijo,” he said, stumbling over _at home_ and belatedly substituting. He trusted that she would be kind enough to look the other way on it, and smiled at Aomine as he sat down next to him. “I always woke up too late. Breakfast was always such a formal thing. Nee-chan always got on my case about it, but Cook always saved my favourites for me.”

Momoi laughed. “I’m getting the sense that you’re well loved, Ki-chan.”

“I was a charming child,” he informed her.

“How can you say that with a straight face?” Aomine asked.

Ryouta turned to look at him, curious. “Say what?”

Aomine shook his head, and Ryouta turned back to Momoi, but--

“Ryouta,” Aomine drawled beside him, drawing his attention again.

“What is—“ _it_ , he started to say, when he was, in a manner very reminiscent of yesterday at lunch, shut up via food to the mouth.

“Stop interrupting me like that,” he whined once he was finished chewing and swallowing. He could feel, more than see, the way that Momoi was staring, and willed himself not to blush.

“Dai-chan,” Momoi hissed. “What are you _doing_.”

“If I don’t, you won’t shut up,” Aomine said to Ryouta and ignoring Momoi, as if he was being _practical_.

“Dai-chan, do not ignore me when I’m speaking to you!” she yelled.

“What do you want, Satsuki?” he asked, leaning back to look at her from behind Ryouta.

“I want an _explanation_ , that’s what I want!”

He blinked. Ryouta wasn’t sure why until he started speaking, and then realised it was supposed to be _innocent_. “Ryouta’s uncomfortable feeding himself. Didn’t you notice?”

The innocent act probably would have worked better if it hadn’t been immediately apparent that there wasn’t a whole lot innocent about Aomine.

“So you _teach him_ ,” Momoi said; she wasn’t shouting anymore though. “You don’t _feed him_!”

“Where’s the fun in that,” Aomine complained.

She leaned behind Ryouta to smack him upside of the head.

“Satsuki!”

She had a fierce frown on her face. “We are going to teach Ki-chan _right now_. What were you going to do when we have the welcoming feast tonight, huh?”

Aomine shrugged. “Feed him?”

“You’re awful, Dai-chan,” she informed him. “Come on. Now, Ki-chan...”

At that moment, though, Ryouta found his attention was diverted to a new person entering the dining hall. She was tall, for a woman, with unmistakable colouring – brown skin and blue hair were, apparently, highly heritable traits.

“Ah! Aunt Yuri,” Momoi greeted her. “Good morning!”

“Good morning, Satsuki,” she replied. “Good morning, Daiki.”

“Good morning,” Aomine answered, and Ryouta found the woman – undoubtedly Aomine’s mother – looking at him, and resisted the desire to fidget.  
Clearly, both Momoi and Aomine were waiting for the other one to do the introduction, because Yuri’s mouth curved into a teasing smile.

“Would one of you like to make me a proper introduction to our beautiful friend here?”

Ryouta went pink, and Momoi sighed, and seemed about to take responsibility for the introduction when Aomine spoke.

“Prince Kise Ryouta of Kaijo, this is my mother, Aomine Yuri. Mother, this is Ryouta. He’s here as my bride.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Ryouta said, and went to stand. She waved a hand at him and sat herself down at the other side of the table.

“Likewise,” she said. “Please, don’t get up.”

“We’re teaching Ki-chan about eating, since _somebody_ ,” and here, Momoi paused to level a glare at Aomine, “has been _feeding_ Ki-chan since he arrived.”

Beside him, Ryouta felt Aomine flinch.

Yuri levelled a look at Aomine, who, Ryouta noticed, seemed distinctly uncomfortable.

“Daiki.”

“...fine,” Aomine mumbled, looking away from her.

“I mean,” Ryouta started, feeling shy, “I know it’s embarrassing, I just don’t know why...”

“Usually,” Yuri said, a gentle smile on her face, “it’s a very intimate gesture only done between lovers. While you are marrying my son, you did only meet yesterday, so some might consider it a source of great embarrassment.”

“Oh,” Ryouta said, and even though it was hardly _his_ fault, he found himself blushing.

With Aomine and Momoi patiently explaining everything, under Yuri’s watchful eye, Ryouta found that everything was really quite simple; and when he demonstrated that he understood, Yuri nodded, satisfied with their teaching.

“Ryouta,” Yuri said, “I understand that I am a woman, and that I am much older than you are now, but I was the bride in an arranged marriage with Daiki’s father, so if you ever feel like you need someone to talk to who understands your situation, I want you to know my door is open.”

“Thank you.” He smiled at her; he wasn’t sure he’d ever take up that offer, but it was nice that she had done so.

“Now, Ki-chan,” Momoi said, and he turned to look at her. “I would quite like to have you fitted for some new clothes, if that’s alright? The seamstresses would probably also like to talk to you about your wedding outfit and what you would be comfortable with. And we can find something for you to wear tonight?”

He had to admit – he felt the distance between himself and the people around him in the way that he was dressed, and his wardrobe _was_ very limited...

“Alright,” he agreed. “That sounds like something productive to do.”

Momoi looked behind him at Aomine. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to, Dai-chan,” she informed him. “You’ll probably get bored, and the seamstresses already know your measurements.”

Aomine sighed and shrugged. Momoi stood up, and Ryouta followed suit.

“It was very nice meeting you, Yuri-san,” he said, turning to look at her, and bowed. “I hope that we can become close.”

“I was glad to have the opportunity to meet you too, Ryouta,” she said warmly. “Have fun with Satsuki.”

He grinned at her – decided against divulging that his wardrobe had equalled his sisters at home – and instead went and linked arms with Momoi.

“I have so many ideas of what would look good on you, Ki-chan,” Momoi said as they walked. “I’m seeing lots of blue in your future. Oh, the seamstresses will have to completely redesign the wedding dress though. Shoichi didn’t send a messenger ahead to tell us about you, you know.” She sighed and shook her head. “That man, sometimes... if I didn’t know that he always had the kingdom’s best interests at heart...”

“I always have looked good in blue,” Ryouta said.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re shameless?” Momoi asked, giggling.

“Frequently,” he answered, pouting. “Though I don’t see why...”

 

* * *

 

With a better part of what was left of the morning and the early afternoon spent with the seamstresses, who had captured him in a flurry, flocking about him to take measurements and shove clothes at him to try on, and Momoi’s calls of _blue, lots of blue_ , Ryouta found himself in great need of some time to relax.

Momoi had taken him back to his rooms, and he could probably have relaxed there; but instead, he decided to wander around, and perhaps attempt to find the stables. He didn’t think he’d be able to take Raiden out for a hard workout without accompaniment, but even just taking some time with the horse would be fine. Probably no one from his guard was out in the yard – likely they’d all gotten their drills and practice done in the morning well before he’d woken, and thus even a one-sided match was out of the question.

The problem was that he wasn’t entirely sure where he was going, or really, where he was. He’d sort of let his feet carry him where they wanted, and now he didn’t recognise anything.

_Damn it_...

It wasn’t so much that he minded being lost; in fact, that he _could_ get lost somewhere and still be safe was kind of interesting. But he did kind of  want to rest a little before the feast tonight, which would require his best, representing Kaijo and attempting to show that he was worthy of being the Crown Prince’s bride, and, well... the sun said it was probably a little later than he’d anticipated...

He’d taken too many turns. He didn’t even know where to start to get back to his quarters. In fact, he would probably get even more hopelessly lost. Even if it was understandable to get lost in a new castle, it was still kind of embarrassing. And there weren’t even any servants in sight to ask for directions back to the area where he was staying.

He stopped walking, and sighed.

“Who’re you?”

The voice came from behind and _down_.  He looked over his shoulder; and upon sighting the child who it belonged to, turned to face him fully.

“Ah, I’m Prince Ryouta,” he said. “And who might you be?”

Really, he was only asking as a formality, and for a name; it was more than obvious just looking at him who his parentage was. At least, on his father’s side.

“I’m Daichi. You’re really pretty. Are you sure you aren’t a princess?”

Ryouta grinned. “I’m pretty sure.” He crouched down to be closer to eye-level with Daichi. “Hey, so, I’m kind of lost, since I’m new around here...”

“That’s pretty silly of you,” Daichi said. “Why’d you do that?”

“I didn’t do it on _purpose_ ,” he whined. “It was an accident!”

Daichi looked around. “I can get you to Father from here,” he said. “I don’t know where you need to go, but Father does, right?”

“Yeah,” he agreed, laughing. “Will you take me?”

Daichi looked at him for a moment, and then nodded before offering his hand out. “Yes.”

Ryouta let his hand curl around the little brown one, and smiled. “So, what do you normally do around here?”

Daichi was quiet for a moment. “I play hide and seek with the nurses,” he said. Ryouta had to bite his lip so he wouldn’t laugh – he knew what that meant. Could remember _playing hide and seek_ with his teachers in Kaijo when the lessons promised to be especially boring. “Sometimes I play with Grandmother and Father, or Auntie Satsuki.”

“I used to play hide and seek with my teachers,” Ryouta whispered conspiratorially. “I would always go hide in the kitchen and get Cook to make my favourite food for dinner.”

Daichi grinned at him. “Do you have a horse? I want one, but they keep saying I’m not big enough yet.”

“I do! His name is Raiden, but I call him Raicchi. He really loves to race. And bite people. Except for me, Raicchi loves me.”

“Can I meet him?”

Ryouta nodded. “You’ll have to show me where the stables are,” he said, “but of course you can meet Raicchi!”

Daichi nodded. “Good.” Daichi turned them around a corner, and things started to look familiar again. “And you’ll take me out racing on him, right?”

“Um...” He’d phrased that as if it wasn’t actually a question. “We’ll ask your father.”

Daichi sighed. “But he’ll say no...”

He stopped them, and knocked on a door. Ryouta heard some muffled voices, and then footsteps before the door opened.

“He got lost, so I brought him back,” Daichi chirped.

Aomine looked at him, and raised an eyebrow. “...Thank you?”

“I want a horse.”

Ryouta resisted the rising urge to laugh as Aomine struggled not to change his expression – he suspected this was a recurring conversation. “Not until you’re older.”

Daichi made a sulky face briefly. Then—

“Can I keep him instead?” There was a tug on his hand, which was still being clasped by the smaller brown one.

This time, Aomine did frown. “He’s mine.”

“What, because you saw him first?” Daichi whined. “Not fair.”

“Yes. Go find your own.”

Daichi scowled. “If you lose him again,” he threatened, “I’m going to keep him.”

“Um,” Ryouta said between them. “Do I get a say in this?”

“No,” they both answered, staring at each other.

Ryouta pouted. “Can someone please take me to my room? I still don’t know how to get there from here.”

“Show us where Ryouta’s room is, Father,” Daichi ordered.

“I’ll show Ryouta to his room,” Aomine said, “and you can go and help your grandmother with her knitting.”

“But that’s _your_ job,” Daichi complained.

“If you’re going to be King, it’s one of your duties. Now go help your grandmother.” He leaned back into the room. “Mother, Daichi’s going to come and help you for a bit. I have a lost prince to escort.”

Daichi looked mutinous even as he went inside. “But I wanted to stay with the prince...”

Aomine smirked and closed the door behind him. “Come on then. Did you really get lost?”

Ryouta huffed and crossed his arms. “I didn’t do it on _purpose_!”

He threw an arm over his shoulders. “Of course you didn’t. Next time you want to wander around, you should just come and get me, stupid.”

“I’d like to see _you_ navigate Kaijo’s palace,” Ryouta muttered, all too aware of their closeness, and the weight of Aomine’s arm on him. “Or Akashicchi’s Imperial Palace. I’d let you get lost and never come find you.”

Aomine laughed. “I’d never be stupid enough to go wandering around a strange place without someone who knows the place.”

It was weird, the casual way Aomine touched him and _ignored_ that he was touching him. No one had ever just done that before, except maybe his sisters when they were younger. There wasn’t anything romantic or sexual about the arm that was resting on him; he was sure he’d seen commoners doing it around the city.

So... that was okay. It was friendly. They’d be friends. They weren’t friends _yet_. But they would be. They’d be life partners. He could do that.

He smiled. “Let’s go racing tomorrow. Raicchi’s going to need some exercise.”

Aomine looked at him. “Sure.”

They arrived at his door – Ryouta almost started with the realisation that he hadn’t even noticed that he’d reached a point where everything was familiar. “Thank you for bringing me back.”

Aomine shrugged. “Someone had to bring your dumb ass back.”

He opened his door and poked his tongue out at Aomine. “Actually, I changed my mind. I’m not thankful.”

And then he closed the door in his face, and laughed to himself.

A quick check on the time sent him scrambling over to the bed, though, where he’d left the clothes that Momoi had decided were perfect for tonight’s feast. He didn’t actually have as much preparation time as he would have liked.

For court functions, he had adopted a similar routine to his sisters – dressing, and then he’d put on discreet makeup. His sisters had always been less subtle than he was with theirs, but Ryouta knew what his strengths were – his pretty face and charm were his biggest weapons on a social landscape, and tonight was a big entrance. If there was any day in which he really pulled out all the stops, it would be today, and at their wedding.

So he sat himself in front of the mirror, and got to work. Everything he could do with himself he’d picked up by watching and experimenting. He probably couldn’t rival Rika’s handmaidens who specifically made her up for big formal court functions, but he could do a pretty damn good job.

He cut the time fine – the sun was setting as he finished up, and he could only thank the gods that he hadn’t screwed anything up and set himself behind. A final inspection, and he nodded, pleased with his work.

He was going to do his sisters proud tonight. He closed the case with a decisive snap, and smiled.

There was that familiar knock on the door. He took a deep breath, stood straight and tall, and opened it.

Aomine was dressed up formally again, and he’d forgotten how striking a picture the other prince made when he was all cleaned up. Well, he’d put his game face on too; he smiled, pulling to mind the shy maidens who he would approach for a dance, and offered his hand to Aomine.

“You look nice tonight,” he said. “I hope that I can make as good an impression as you do.”

“Uh. Yeah. You’ll be fine,” Aomine said, his voice gruff. He reached out and took Ryouta’s hand – it was warm and rough.

_The first performance of many_ , Ryouta thought.

“Well, probably. These things are my specialty,” he admitted. “I’m still a little nervous, although I’ve never met a nobleman who wasn’t susceptible to a little charm and flattery from someone like me.”

Aomine nodded. Ryouta looked at him from underneath his darkened eyelashes.

“You... look really... nice,” Aomine finally stumbled out.

Ryouta smiled.

“Thank you,” he chirped. “I pulled out all my tricks tonight. After all, it wouldn’t do to show up and be an embarrassment.”

“Yeah.”

Aomine had them pause as they reached a large doorway, out the front of which stood two doormen. “You ready?”

He took a deep breath and relaxed, standing tall and proud, the sweet, coy smile he’d seen countless times, and _worn_ countless times slipping easily into place. “Of course.”

Aomine nodded at the men, and they opened the door.

There were a lot of people, lots of strange people dressed in silks and decked out in jewellery; but this was nothing new. If anything, it settled him, to see people were the same underneath everything no matter where you went, and that made his task tonight easy. Even though the clothes he wore were unfamiliar in the way they sat on him, in the way they felt on him – lighter, with fewer layers, and somewhat feminine, culminating in an androgynous look – he was wearing Kaijo blue and white, with the golden colours of his House, and there was nothing to be afraid of. He was important and powerful, more than they would believe, and he could probably have them curled around his fingers by the end of the evening.

He didn’t let himself show the self-assured smirk that was pulling at the edges of his mouth – instead, he moved his hand from Aomine’s to curl it around his forearm, and let Aomine guide him forward as eyes followed their entrance.

Aomine was taking him somewhere with purpose; they were going to meet someone _particular_ before they would make their rounds about the room.

Ryouta was fairly sure he knew who it would be, too.

Yuri was standing next to him, looking pretty much like some kind of deep sea goddess; the man himself was tall, and broad, and had probably been built a lot like Aomine when he was younger. His dark hair was littered with grey, but he had a commanding aura, and Ryouta knew what it was; after all, the other three people he knew who held themselves like that, they were Kings and Queens and Emperors.

This was Aomine’s father.

Orbiting at a safe distance, Ryouta could see all of Aomine’s siblings. He smiled at those who caught his eye as they approached.

Ryouta knew his name of course, because that’s what you did when you had neighbouring countries. You knew your neighbours, even though Kaijo and Touou had never been close; Ryouta knew enough history to know that, although he’d probably avoided too many of his boring history lessons to know why.

“Father, I would like to introduce you to Prince Kise Ryouta of Kaijo, who’s come to be my bride. Ryouta, this is my father, King Aomine Akio.”

Ryouta bowed, sweeping, textbook perfect for a foreign prince to a king in his home. “It’s an honour, your Majesty.”

He didn’t really know what to expect; his experience of monarchs was limited and even still, incredibly varied. But as he straightened, he didn’t expect to find his free hand caught up in the king’s grasp, or the way he smiled at him so warmly. Not that it was bad, but it was a bit friendlier than he’d anticipated, somehow.

“Now now,” Akio said, and wow Aomine had inherited that voice, “that’s not necessary. You’re going to be family, after all.”

“My esteemed sister would beat me if I didn’t show proper respect upon _meeting_ , at the very least,” Ryouta countered, though a real grin was cracking at the corners of his smile. He needed to control that. The power of the mask was in those who saw it not knowing it existed, after all. Aomine’s father would have plenty of opportunity to see him naturally, and come to understand him; Ryouta only had tonight to play the charming prince to the rest of the room.

“I suppose one must keep their siblings happy, and do their families proud,” Akio commented, and let go of his hand to begin to move away. “Daiki, you should introduce Prince Ryouta around. He is the guest of honour tonight, after all.”

If Aomine was displeased with the idea of spending the night playing escort as Ryouta played social butterfly, he didn’t let it show. Ryouta did feel him sigh slowly and heavily, and squeezed his arm.

“Don’t worry,” he said cheerfully, “Once I start the ball rolling you won’t have to do much. If you can tell me which ones are the leaders of their little groups and make the first introduction, that’s all I need.”

Aomine stared at him, and for a moment Ryouta was almost offended, thinking the incredulity was aimed at the idea of his people skills – then he quickly realised that Aomine probably had no idea himself.

“Yeah, okay, where’s Momocchi, I bet she’s all over this...”

Momoi, seeming to have anticipated this very situation, came gliding over, her large husband in tow. “Ki-chan, you see that man over there?” She pointed surreptitiously, and Ryouta followed the line it made, and nodded. “You want to start with him.”

He beamed at her. “You’re a _treasure_.”

She smiled back at him. “I knew Dai-chan would be useless,” she hummed, though the words had no bite. “This is my Taisuke, by the way! Isn’t he handsome?”

Ryouta looked at him. “Um... sure?”

The man looked embarrassed, and not just a little bit exasperated. “It’s good to finally meet you, Prince Ryouta. I’ve been hearing about you almost constantly for the last day.”

“It’s nice to make your acquaintance,” Ryouta answered. “I hope they were good things?”

Aomine was looking at his sister, a disgusted look on his face as she clung to her husband’s arm.

“Let’s get this over with already,” he interrupted.

Ryouta pinched Aomine’s arm. “It’s rude to interrupt. But yes, we should start making rounds. I’m sure I’ll get to talk to you in a less formal setting.”

The night quickly became a blur of faces and names; after Aomine introduced him to the first man and his wife, others swiftly gathered. It was only to be expected, after all; he was the guest of honour, he was Aomine’s bride, he was handsome and people were drawn to beautiful things – these were all things he knew, things that he played on, and he listened with an attentive face as they spoke about themselves and their lands and what their families were known for, even though he would never remember all these things – but that was what those who’d spent more time here were for, and he’d learn quickly who he needed to know things about because they were important and frequented court functions, and who he could consign to the obscure regions of the back of his brain.

He didn’t notice when Aomine slipped away; but it was only to be expected. This thing honestly did bore Ryouta, but it was important, and it was what he was good at. And if Aomine hated it, then as his future consort, playing the socialite would likely be his main responsibilities, keeping the most powerful lords feeling listened to and important.

As the evening wound down and the guests began to leave, he sat down heavily. It had been a while since he’d done such a large amount of work like this; at home, there hadn’t really been the need since Rika’s coronation and Hikaru’s wedding had not required that he be anything more than a pretty set piece, proud and happy for his siblings. It would have been stealing their spotlights for him to do what he was doing tonight.

His eyes drifted shut as he tipped his head back, sighing quietly. So much work. Even though social interactions usually energised him, he was tired. Maybe his brain had had to work too hard.

Something – some _one_ – dropped beside him, and he cracked an eye open.

Aomine.

He closed his eye again, and laid back. “I’m so tired. And my feet hurt. I haven’t had to work so hard since the time I had to be re-introduced at Rakuzan.”

“Why _re_ -introduced?” Aomine asked.

“Story for another time,” Ryouta mumbled. “Too tired for explanations. Don’t think I can even get up.”

“I know when someone’s asking for a carry when I hear it,” Aomine said, as if speaking to a child.

“I bet you can’t. I’m heavier than I look.”

Aomine shifted next to him, and Ryouta opened his eyes to look at him. He was looking at him, and then Aomine moved, and there was an arm under his knees and his lower back.

“What are you doing?!” he yelped.

Aomine raised an eyebrow. “Arms around me.”

Ryouta felt his cheeks grow warm. “Aomine...”

“You said you can’t get up. So come on.”

Well. That was a stubborn look if he’d ever seen one.

“Just because I’m tired,” he muttered, and hesitantly reached an arm around Aomine’s shoulders.

Aomine’s only response was a humming noise, which, from his new spot lifted up against his body, seemed much more like a rumbling noise. Ryouta closed his eyes again; he was too tired to feel embarrassed by the way he was being carried like a child ( _or a bride_ , his mind traitorously whispered).

The walk back to his room felt like it took an eternity.

He was put back on his feet at the door; he actually could stand, it seemed, although as he opened the door and attempted to take a few steps, he discovered that his ability to walk was questionable.

Aomine steadied him. “Bed?”

“I should clean myself up,” Ryouta mumbled. “I’ll get this stuff on my face all over everything.”

“The servants will clean it up tomorrow,” Aomine told him. “Come on, you’re practically half-asleep already.”

He didn’t end up getting much say in the matter – not that he was arguing very hard to start with. Aomine steered him to his bed, and he collapsed on it gratefully.

“Are you going to fall asleep like that?”

Ryouta rubbed his face against the pillow. “Probably.”

He heard Aomine sigh, but the hands that wrestled his feet from his shoes were surprisingly careful, even as Ryouta sighed and wriggled his toes.

“You really are spoiled, aren’t you?”

“Never said I wasn’t,” Ryouta mumbled. The blankets were creeping from underneath him, and then he was covered.

“Goodnight, Ryouta.”

“G’night Aomine.”

The last thing he remembered was the sound of his door closing.


	6. Chapter 6

_After Ryouta and Satsuki left to go to the seamstresses, his mother asked him to accompany her back to her rooms and of course he agreed. There was hardly anything he refused his mother and even given that he was now an adult, it was something he didn’t find to be shameful or a burden. She never really asked him for much and some of his time was easy enough to give, especially nowadays when he had so little to do. He loved his mother and there was much he would do for her._

_His mother’s rooms were a bit smaller than his but she never seemed to mind. Daiki had his own rooms now and she wouldn’t have had a lot of use for a lot of space anyhow. All she really needed was a place to sleep and a place where she can quietly knit or read. Her rooms had a good view of the gardens, though, as she loved looking out at the blooming flowers. Her rooms always seemed warm and welcoming with the sunlight streaming in from the open windows and the vases of fresh flowers that were always on display._

_It wasn’t long before they were seated at one corner of her sitting room. Daiki chose a place by a window where there was a sunpatch and his mother smiled at how typical it was of him. She took her place across him, handed him her basket of thread and started to knit. That was all he did when she asked him to sit with her as she knitted, hold her basket of threads as if for safe keeping. There was comfortable silence between them for a while, many afternoons were spent exactly like this, until his mother spoke his name._

_“Daiki.”_

_He blinked drowsiness from his eyes and focused his gaze to his mother’s profile, “Yes, Mother?”_

_“Ryouta  seems to be doing his best to adjust here.” She spoke to him but her eyes were on her task, slender fingers working efficiently but with grace using needle and thread. “You’re doing well to help him.”_

_“I guess…” Daiki didn’t really know what to say to that.  He brought Ryouta to the baths (which had been in turns torturous, painful and embarrassing for him) and fed him when he was hungry (which was now not going to be as fun as it used to be since they taught Ryouta to eat by himself).  Those were basic things and before that he had been an awful host to him. He felt it was the least he could do to make it up to him._

_“Do you like him?” Now those eyes were looking at him so intently that he could hardly fend off the urge to squirm._

_“He’s...all right.” He began and was unable to stop himself from quickly adding, “Kind of funny and annoying when he’s whining. But he’s all right.” Daiki was never one to easily give compliments no matter how much he liked someone and he kind of actually liked Ryouta, embarrassing as it was to admit. He’d just known the other Prince for a day after all and while Ryouta was beautiful, good looks could only take you so far with Aomine Daiki._

_His mother laughed and he had this distinct feeling that she was laughing at something more than his clumsy attempt at answering her question. “He does seem childish in some ways.”_

_“Yeah…”_

_“Daiki.” She had stopped laughing then and was smiling at him. She was smiling at him in an awfully familiar way. That smile appeared whenever she felt like she wished she could do something for him, to save him from some kind of trouble or burden. That expression often touched her face since he came of age and had to step back and allow him to make his own decisions no matter how dangerous they were._

_“Yes, Mother.”_

_She looked at him then with fondness and something else that he couldn’t quite read. “Take care of yourself and Prince Ryouta as well.”_

_It was easy enough to see that there was something she wasn’t telling him, something she knew and he didn’t. It was often frustrating, the number of cryptic people in his life, but she was his mother and he could only diffidently answer,_

_“Of course.”_

_And from then, silence prevailed once more, his mother seeming more calm after saying some of what was on her mind and Daiki lost in thoughts that now haunted him. They continued on like this until Daichi knocked on the door and brought back a lost Ryouta to him._

* * *

 

If there were things that Prince Ryouta’s second day at Touou had taught Daiki, it was that his life from then on was truly changed and he wasn’t quite sure how he felt about it. It was something he belatedly realized as he watched Ryouta, his bride, mingle effortlessly among the esteemed guests from Touou’s high society. Dressed and transformed by Touou’s finest silks and jewelry, Prince Ryouta was ever more radiant, a shining beacon that no one in attendance could hardly resist.

He smiled and laughed, granting his bright smiles and irresistible charm to everyone he came across. Though he had been uprooted from home and put in the middle of a crowd with different manners and tastes, he still managed to put his best foot forward and engage a room of strangers. As Prince of Kaijo, this was probably old hat to him.  Perhaps this was also not that different from home for Ryouta. Daiki couldn’t really think that high society in Kaijo is all that different from Touou’s if you put aside the clothes and traditions. At their core, they were both a group of people with money, prestige or both and they were a pain to deal with unless you spoke their secret language and knew how to play the game.

Daiki never really enjoyed these feasts, these gatherings, and so Ryouta’s presence was really a blessing. He didn’t have to put that much effort in mingling and socializing and he got to stand back and watch Ryouta charm and amaze. At least to himself, he can admit that Ryouta was mesmerizing this way, glittery and splendid and yet seemingly untouchable; most everyone else probably thought this too. The hard part was admitting that he found Ryouta mesmerizing even when he wasn’t dressed in silks and dripping with precious stones. He liked him looking like this but he also liked what he saw and knew about Ryouta when he was looking less than perfect, when he looked up in wonder at the night sky and was ridiculously wrapped up like a bit of night air and bare skin could be his death.

Daiki tried his best not to dwell on these unusual thoughts. He already had a lot on his plate, between Ryouta and their impending wedding, and those were more than enough. Any feelings he may have for Ryouta wouldn’t really matter in the end anyway.

He continued to watch Ryouta from afar for a bit more. Ryouta really didn’t need him to be there. He had a magnetic presence and everyone wanted a chance to speak with him. He could afford a few more minutes of being away from being in the middle of all that. Or so he thought.

“He’s working hard.”

It was only that very familiar voice that stopped him from tensing completely as an arm wrapped around his shoulders. He cleared his throat, trying to cover up how he hadn’t been that aware of his surroundings. The old man was being as stealthy as ever. “Father.”

Aomine Akio, King of Touou, was smiling as always, seeming not to notice how he had caught his heir off guard. “You’ve lingered here long enough, don’t you think?”

If his mother was cryptic, his father hardly minced his words and Daiki found himself almost drooping his shoulder like a guilty child. Easygoing as he was, his father never missed anything and would have known how long Daiki had been gone from his bride’s side if he were watching. Fierce dark eyes looked at him then and his father let out a hearty laugh, clapping him in rough affection over one shoulder, “Now, now, Daiki, don’t sulk, hm? You should be standing by your bride anyway. He’ll need your support as well. And also,” The King paused before carefully placing something small in his hand. When Daiki looked, it was a couple of jeweled pins. “Your mother said you would know what to do.”

And he did. The pins could be used to help keep Ryouta’s veil in place. Daiki had been coerced by Satsuki many times to help her fix her veil during gatherings like this.

“Daiki,” his father caught his attention again and smiled when his son gave him his full attention. “Perhaps get him some wine as well? He must be thirsty.”

Daiki stared back at his father, the King of Touou, and couldn’t help the annoyed frown that pinched his otherwise neutral expression. “You have a lot of ideas…”

Really, with that smile, his father must be enjoying this. Daiki had never been a particularly biddable child and he had caused his parents a lot of headaches. Now he was about to get married and to a very beautiful bride that he seemed not to know what to do with. Yes, Daiki could see how amusing it could be but that did not make accepting his father’s advice and good cheer at his situation any easier to bear.

His genuine annoyance just caused his father to laugh again, crows’ feet appearing at the sides of his eyes. “I think they’re very good ideas, if I can say so myself, and your mother approves so they shouldn’t be misguided.”

It was unfair how his mother is brought up and of course he was just compelled to do as he was bid, “Fine…”

For his compliance, he got another hearty shoulder clap and a good-natured wink for good measure, “That’s a good boy. Go get some wine for your bride now. I see Kousuke and I think I must also ask him about when _he_ is going to get married…”

Daiki left him to that and headed for the direction of his bride.  

Ryouta was in the middle of speaking with one of his father’s advisers. He was looking very interested in whatever the old man was saying but then he turned easily enough when Daiki appeared back at his side.

“Aomine, you’re back.” Ryouta was smiling so brightly at him, practically beaming light, that he couldn’t help but stare back. The other prince never smiled at him like that before and it made Daiki a bit suspicious. Catching himself before starting to look too much like a besotted fool in front of one of the most important men in the kingdom, Daiki excused them from the exchanged and he led Ryouta away.

After getting a servant to get them some wine, he led Ryouta into one of the rooms beside the grand hall they had just been in. The room wasn’t anything special, nothing different from the many sitting rooms in the palace except for maybe the fact that it was just the two of them again and Daiki definitely noticed.

“Did you want to speak with me privately about something?” Ryouta had this curious look on his face and it reminded Daiki of the past night all over again.

Pushing those thoughts aside, he held out the jeweled pins. “From my mother. They’re for your veil.”

Ryouta’s eyes widened at the sight of them. They were tiny, especially in Daiki’s hands. Delicately pretty, fashioned to look like the blue flowers that grew on the mountainside. There were small-sized sapphires on the silver pins, their shade was almost the same as Ryouta’s silks and they matched his ensemble perfectly. Daiki watched as Ryouta reached for them in wonder, his own fingertips also delicate in their careful touch. “They’re beautiful.” He breathed, then turned a smile to Daiki, somehow less bright than the one he gave him at the feast but more real. “Please thank Yuri-san for me.”

Daiki nodded. “I will. Come closer. I’ll help you pin your veil into place.”

That got an amused, curious smile before Ryouta took a step closer to him. “You know how to do this?”

He reached forward to begin, finding himself looking into that golden gaze more than he needed to. “Yeah…”

“Oooh, how many veils did you ever have to fix, Aomine?”

Daiki had to quirk an eyebrow at the teasing tone and the slightly cheeky grin he was suddenly getting. Maybe speaking with the people back at the welcoming feast was doing something to Ryouta. Or he already had some wine? Nevertheless, he didn’t mind playing along. “A couple,” he answered breezily, fingers light and careful against Ryouta’s silky veil and equally silky hair. “Satsuki was very demanding and always made me help her.”

That earned him a laugh. “You’re really different from how people think you are.” Ryouta was still smiling, catching his gaze, and somehow that was enough to see the difference of this smile from the one just moments before. How many smiles did Kise Ryouta have?

Daiki sighed at the realization, “You idiot.”

Ryouta blinked, confused. “What?”

Daiki didn’t get to answer right away because the servant arrived with Ryouta’s wine.

“Drink this.” He commanded as he held out the goblet of wine, eying Ryouta with a bit of a severe look. Ryouta took the goblet obediently and drank from it, almost draining the goblet at once and Daiki sighed again, shaking his head. He should have known. “If you’re still tired, you should have said something.”

Ryouta has had a long day after all and anyone would really get tired mingling in that room as Ryouta just did. And he just arrived in Touou yesterday. Who even thought of arranging these things like that?

There was a pregnant pause between them before Ryouta sighed quietly, wearily, and the mask was dropped. He looked worn out, the tiredness blurring in his lidded eyes and listless expression. “You know I can’t.”

“Of course you can.” Daiki insisted roughly, though a part of him understood where Ryouta was coming from. This was Ryouta’s welcoming feast, his debut in Touou as his bride and while he was tired and wanted to rest, he couldn’t. To fail here would not be acceptable and Daiki was quick to learn that Ryouta had pride that would hardly bend if it was for Kaijo and now as the betrothed of the Crown Prince of Touou.  Yes, Daiki understood but he still grit his teeth and held firm because he did not like it. To him, it was just stupid and fruitless  to care about what other people thought when it was impossible to please everyone.

Ryouta smiled tiredly but sincerely, appreciating his concern at least. He shook his head. “I can’t.” he also insisted and after a while, Daiki had to relent.

“Fine, but you’re resting for a few minutes.” He said as he led the other prince toward a nearby sofa, Ryouta’s hand in his once again. Ryouta’s grip was gentle but maybe that was just from tiredness.

“People will talk.” Ryouta murmured around a yawn even as he slumped against comfortable cushions, messing up Daiki’s handiwork a little, and closed his eyes. “They’ll think we’ve fallen in love or something as dramatic and stole a moment to get away…”

Daiki scoffed even as he felt an odd flutter in his chest at the words. “Then let them talk.” He ground out before heading to stand by a window to give Ryouta space.

“How scandalous~” Ryouta giggled quietly from the sofa and Daiki forced himself to continue looking out at the grounds though there was nothing to really see.

“Rest.”

And Ryouta did but it wasn’t for long. He was pretty stubborn and when he felt that he had rested enough, he urged them back to the feast. Daiki didn’t think Ryouta rested for more than fifteen minutes. After fixing Ryouta’s veil again, they went back to the feast hand in hand. The nap did much to restore Ryouta, it seemed. He smiled brighter than before and even kept his hand in Daiki’s as they went around. Daiki didn’t leave his side but only spoke when spoken to, letting Ryouta handle most of the talking, while he made sure Ryouta didn’t overexert himself.

There were some questions of where they were and more discretely, what they were up to. Ryouta deflected the questions prettily, eyelashes fluttering demurely, the perfect blushing bride, and everyone was in awe and effectively distracted.

Daiki was glad when the feast was over and Ryouta was able to sit back down, though it was mostly sprawling than sitting. Unsurprisingly, Ryouta was exhausted but it was a surprise when he voluntarily took him in his arms and carried him off to his room. It was true, Ryouta wasn’t as light as he looked, but Daiki had carried heavier and it wasn’t such a hardship, especially when Ryouta did do well tonight. And as he left Ryouta to his sleep, almost completely dressed in all his finery and exhausted beyond measure, Daiki asked himself why he liked such a stubborn idiot so much anyway.

 

* * *

 

No answers for his latest question came in the morning when Daiki opened his eyes. His bedroom was bright, the sun high in the sky and he knew he was late for whatever breakfast there could be had. Still, he was feeling well rested and alert after what was definitely a good night’s rest. He didn’t feel like tormenting himself with troubling questions so early and so he pushed them aside as he looked forward to a new day.

Besides, he had no social obligations to attend to today. His limbs, long left idle though it had only really been for a day or two, were longing for activity and strain, if he’s lucky enough, and something told him there would be merit in seeking out Ryouta’s company once again.

Ryouta was up and about when Daiki wandered into his room. He caught him just as he was having his own breakfast brought in and Daiki unceremoniously plopped himself down across the other Prince. He wasn’t invited but he was the Crown Prince and his betrothed; of course Ryouta should feel privileged.

“You woke up early.” Daiki commented a bit distractedly as the food was carefully put down on the table between them. The smells of fresh bread and hot tea were most appreciated by his hungry stomach.

His bride was eying him, unimpressed. “And you woke up late.” He sighed, glancing at everything before them and thanking the servants before continuing. “Were you that tired? If I recall correctly, I was the busy one last night.”

Daiki paused in meditatively chewing his bite of bread and cheese before he swallowed, “Maybe. Why?” He was such in a good, energetic mood that he couldn’t help but grin. “Did you miss me, Ryouta?”

Predictably, those cheeks puffed in denial. “No.”

“Were you waiting for me to come get you?” Daiki wheedled. “Couldn’t get anywhere without me holding your hand?”

“You wish!” And those cheeks puffed even more; it was almost disgustingly adorable. Gone was the charming, graceful bride from the night before to be replaced by a pouting, indignant child.

“Ryouta?”

“Wha--?!”

And Daiki laughed, almost clutching his stomach and falling over, because Ryouta had his mouth open and he got to stick a piece of bread inside.

If looks could kill, Daiki would have been a corpse by now. “Aomine!”

“I can’t believe you still fell for that!”

Faced with no choice, Ryouta started chewing on the piece of bread, stirring his tea and drinking it a moment later like he bore some kind of great offense to his pride. “I take back all the nice things I said about you last night. All of them.”

“But you said I was very handsome.” Daiki said, still with a bit of that humorous grin as he continued on with his breakfast. “So gallant and so strong. That was all a lie, Ryouta? You wound me.”

“I hope you bleed to death.” Ryouta bit on a piece of bread with a bit more force than necessary and again, Daiki had to laugh.

Their breakfast just continued on this way, teasing and bickering over food and drink companionably. It was different from what they had to face the night before and it was a good way to unwind with no eyes watching for their every move. It wasn’t long before they had put away as much food as they could and were taking a bit of a rest.

“You’re getting good at feeding yourself.” Daiki commented as he rested on his side on one of the cushions, looking to Ryouta who still sat but was mostly facing the view from a nearby window: a beautiful fountain bordered by an arrangement of flower bushes.

“No thanks to you.” Ryouta quipped, not even bothering to look at him and Daiki chuckled, not at all slighted by the other prince’s attempt at blocking his presence. Maybe he had gone a bit far. Well then, that meant he’d have to make amends somehow.

“Oi, Ryouta.”

“What?”

“You can use a sword, can’t you?”

That caught Ryouta’s attention and that familiar, wide-eyed curious look was on his face when he finally turned to look at him. “Yes…?”

“Show me what you can do.”

For a moment, Ryouta looked surprised, but he was a master of manipulating his expressions when it suited him and soon the expression was replaced with this bemused expression. “You want to see me fence? Really?”

“Is it so surprising that I’d want to?” Daiki raised him an eyebrow.

Ryouta shrugged easily as a hand lifted to lightly toy with his earring before tucking his hair behind his ear absently. “Why would you even want to? Fencing is probably going to be boring for you. I think your style of swordplay is very different from mine.”

“We don’t use swords for gentleman’s sport, this is true.” Daiki found himself saying and he could tell when what he said struck a chord, something in him quickening at the slight narrowing of Ryouta’s golden eyes. “But maybe you can amuse me for a while.”

“Amuse you.” Ryouta’s tone was flat and it made Daiki smirk.

“Yes.” Daiki leaned back against some cushions, meeting that narrowed gaze with one of lazy, insolent challenge.  “Amuse me.”

It didn’t take long before Ryouta was asking, “Where do you want to do this?” and Daiki knew he was in for a treat.

 

* * *

 

Somehow, it got around that the two princes were going to be facing off using their swords of choice. Daiki said his people didn’t wield swords for sport but it was always a spectacle of sorts when two skilled fighters were to duel. It didn’t need to be said, but Daiki was known as the best swordsman in the land and it caused great excitement to know that he was going to be testing out the skill of one Prince Kise Ryouta from Kaijo who apparently had his own reputation for being the best. For now, their engagement was put aside. Ryouta wasn’t his bride but his opponent and he was eager to see what he could do.

Apparently, Ryouta brought a sword with him. That was good, since Daiki didn’t think that they had blades the likes of which Kaijo’s men at arms preferred. The blade was straight and thin, a weapon built for long-range but lethal thrusts, and Daiki wondered idly to himself if it would break under his own sword’s blade if he put enough force against it.

Another difference was that in Kaijo, it seemed to be tradition to have to be dressed especially for a duel. He stared as Ryouta’s captain of the guard, Kasamatsu, helped him into some kind of vest that covered his whole chest over his old clothes from Kaijo. The material of it looked sturdy but Daiki had a feeling it wouldn’t do anything much to protect Ryouta from injuries.

“What is that supposed to be?” He asked, still looking curiously as Kasamatsu fitted the vest closed and he could hear his men whispering and quietly voicing his own thoughts about it. Admittedly, it looked handsome on Ryouta and maybe the ladies at home found him especially dashing in it. Daiki just thought it was useless frippery.

“It’s for protection.” Ryouta explained even as he looked Daiki over too. The look he was giving him must be the same as the on his own face. “You’re not putting anything over your clothes?”

Daiki shook his head. “‘Never had to wear more than the clothes on my back.” He was just dressed simply in a shirt and loose-fitting pants that he could move freely in. Touou’s style of swordsplay required a lot of movement and flexibility.

In response to that, Ryouta just nodded and took his sword from Kasamatsu. Meanwhile, Daiki had brought along one of his swords, one of the less ostentatious, more functional ones. He had a lot of swords, some of which were gifts and rather fancy, more fitting for ceremony rather than an actual fight. In contrast to Ryouta’s blade, an elegant, princely rapier, Daiki’s was a scimitar with a thicker curved blade. Daiki had never really fought against someone with a different kind of sword and the fact that Ryouta was very skilled was particularly exciting.

After a while, they got into position to begin. Ryouta drew out his rapier, the blade gleaming under the sun and singing the tune of fine steel and silver. He tried out a few swings before holding it steady before him in position, the blade’s tip raised to the sky. Daiki drew out his own in answer but while Ryouta’s scabbard stayed by his hip, he hefted his in his left hand, the curved side out.

Golden eyes widened in surprise and disbelief, “You’re going to use your scabbard as a guard? That’s unfair!”

Daiki shrugged at the accusation, his right hand swinging his sword around in a circle to test its weight. “You have your protection, I have mine.”

Ryouta gritted his teeth, those golden eyes narrowing, and Daiki found himself grinning, finding himself liking that fierce expression on that beautiful face.

And then it was quiet as they stood in position, neither of them moving as if watching and waiting for some kind of signal to begin. A hush had fallen over the courtyard they had decided to use for the duel, the crowd of spectators watching with rapt attention, the air charged with anticipation as all waited with baited breath.

In the end, it was Daiki who made a move first, moving toward Ryouta with his signature speed. Perhaps it was too impatient of him, too reckless, especially given how he practically knew nothing of what Ryouta could do. Then again, Daiki wasn’t known for his infinite patience or sound judgement. Despite how unwise it probably was, it had its advantage. Ryouta hadn’t expected him to charge forward and he had to move quickly to defend himself.

Their blades collided when Daiki brought his own down over Ryouta, meaning to slash and strike down, but Ryouta was able to block it. His rapier, fancy and decorative as it was, was sturdy and Ryouta was stronger than he looked.

Daiki grinned, eyes feral and excited, as he met Ryouta’s eyes over their crossed blades. “You’re not bad.”

Ryouta returned with a smirk, “Neither are you.”

Daiki laughed and moved with the momentum when Ryouta finally tried to push him back with his sword and he let him.

It wasn’t a surprise to Daiki that he beat Ryouta. While Ryouta had skill and agility in spades, he was no match for Daiki’s instincts and experience. Their styles were also very different, with Daiki’s swordsmanship being as unpredictable as it was, which also counted for a lot. What was surprising was that Daiki beat Ryouta many times.

The look of awe and shock that came over Ryouta’s face when Daiki got so close, close enough to slash a deadly line up his chest, was something Daiki would likely never forget. It was a sight that Daiki often saw in the faces of his enemies but those eyes made a difference. In those eyes, there wasn’t a trace of defeat but soon there was fire and determination and it was amazing to see.

“One more time.” Ryouta had said, his voice clear and unwavering, even as Daiki held his blade so close he could kill him if he wanted to. That wasn’t the point, though, so Ryouta was safe but it was still surprising how this duel apparently wasn’t over yet.

The sun was bright and almost blistering in its heat, the spectators mostly dispersed due to hunger and the heat itself, when Daiki decided to end it. He had lost count of how many times Ryouta had asked for one more, and then another and another. He was tired, he was hungry and Ryouta was still resolute, those eyes still fierce and alive despite how Ryouta himself looked like he was only standing and gripping his sword through sheer will.

All it took was one move and Ryouta was finally unarmed, his sword flying out of his hand. After that, Ryouta near crumbled to his knees in exhaustion. He was a panting, weakened mess, his blond hair matted and sticky with sweat. He started trying to remove that ridiculous vest himself and Daiki had to step in to help him at least loosen it. It was probably harder to breathe with it on. Eventually, it was just too annoying and Daiki dealt it the fate that it deserved: he used his sword to slash it open, making Ryouta squeak in protest.

“Aominecchi! I didn’t bring spares of that!”

Daiki could say a lot of things in answer to that, like how the vest was stupid anyway and was entirely ineffective as he had demonstrated. He could also say that Ryouta should just shut up because he was tired and hungry and Ryouta was an idiot so they should stop for today. Or he could just start dragging Ryouta away before he said anything else, because--

“Aominecchi?”

“Hm?” His incredulous question seemed to catch Ryouta off guard, those golden eyes blinking owlishly, before he seemed to come to a conclusion and he smiled, nodding. “Yes. Aominecchi!”

Daiki stared like Ryouta had lost his damned mind. Did he hit him on the head in one of those duels? He couldn’t remember. “What the hell kind of name is ‘Aominecchi’?” He demanded.

Then the pout appeared and it looked more ridiculous than usual because Ryouta still looked like a mess. “You should be honored I call you that, you know? I only add -cchi to the end of people’s names I admire and respect!”

Daiki just frowned at the explanation and the way Ryouta was pouting at him like he expected him to just accept it so easily. That just didn’t make sense at all and he told Ryouta so. “You’re ridiculous.”

It wasn’t exactly a compliment but that seemed to please Ryouta anyway, making him beam like the sun that shone brightly overhead. Daiki felt warmth spread through him at the sight.

“Aominecchi says that but he’s still here with me anyway.” Ryouta said with that bright, cheeky smile.

Yes, maybe Daiki was the idiot here instead.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sword fights are hard to write. *flops*


	7. Chapter 7

When Ryouta woke up the next morning, his whole body felt like it was aching.

Involuntarily, a pained whine sounded in his throat. He was _not_ getting up today. He was going to stay right here, even if his stomach was telling him he was going to starve to death.

He burrowed under the blankets. He probably wasn’t going to get back to sleep, but he was going to try, because he definitely was not going to move.

Ryouta had not bargained on Aomine letting himself into his room. He’d dozed off, when all of a sudden he was jerked awake as his blankets were snatched away.

Aomine was looking down at him, an unimpressed look on his face.

“Aominecchi,” he whined, “everything hurts.”

“I thought I told you to stop calling me that,” Aomine muttered. He put the blankets down, but not over Ryouta.

“But you’re Aominecchi,” Ryouta protested.

Aomine looked towards the ceiling, as if saying a prayer for strength.

“Come on, get up. You need a hot bath; you’ll feel better after that.”

Ryouta buried his face back in the pillow and shook his head. “But everything hurts.”

“I’m not carrying you to the baths,” Aomine said, voice flat.

He puffed out his cheeks and looked up at Aomine again. “I didn’t ask you to. But I don’t want to get up.”

There was a sigh then. “So you don’t want another duel? Well, that’s fine. I was thinking of sleeping all day too, anyway.”

_That_ had Ryouta attempt to get himself out of bed. Yesterday had been _fantastic_ , even if it was the source of his current pain. “No, I want one!”

He almost immediately embarrassed himself by falling to the ground with a thump. That _hurt_.

“Aominecchi.”

Aomine sighed again. “The faster you get up, the faster we can get you into the bath and relax your muscles. Really, I would have thought you’d be in better shape than this...”

Ryouta pulled himself up, feeling all the muscles in his legs and back scream as he did so. “You’re so cruel, Aominecchi,” he mumbled. He attempted not to limp too badly as he went to get some clothes from his wardrobe. “I never really had to train at home, since I was faster and stronger than everyone without it, so I guess I got a bit slack over the last few years... Kasamatsu-san’s going to laugh if he sees me like this; I bet he knew this would happen.”

The trip to the baths took a long time, with the slow way that Ryouta was moving. He felt like every single muscle in his body was locked up and just _wouldn’t_ move the way he wanted it too. Really, all he wanted to do was go lie back down in his bed; if he was at home he’d probably have begged Hikaru to try and knead some of the knots out of his muscles, because there was no one else who could really get away with so much physical contact, and Rika was too busy to spoil him.

But he was here, so a hot bath was all he was going to get.

It was mercifully empty by the time that they arrived there. Ryouta struggled with the removal of his clothes because he was just struggling to move in general, but once they were all off and he had taken the few excruciating steps down into the water, he whimpered.

He didn’t dare look at Aomine, because he was fairly certain that would just make the embarrassment of this whole morning complete. He was sure that there was going to be a complete lack of sympathy and a _lot_ of amusement at his expense going on there.

Experimentally, he attempted to knead at the muscles in his thigh, and his arm muscles protested. Yeah, he wasn’t going to be able to work any knots out on his own. He sank lower into the water and sighed.

“I never want to hurt this much again,” he whined. “Never. This is almost worse than getting my ear pierced.”

He had expected Aomine to sit on the bench or something again – actually he wasn’t entirely sure why he assumed that Aomine would be happy to just sit and wait while he soaked. So he was more surprised than he should have been when there was a splash to the side, though not nearby, and... Aomine was in the bath.

His gaze, which had inadvertently turned towards the sound, quickly turned away, and he tried to tell himself his hot cheeks were because of the water temperature.

“You’re so whiny,” Aomine groaned.

“But I’m sore _everywhere_.”

He was just curious, that’s all – other than the handful of girls he’d been with, he’d never really _seen_ other people naked before (and sometimes even then he hadn’t seen them without all their clothes). It was natural that he’d want to look. He just had to _control_ the urge to look over, because it was rude. Well, he assumed it was rude, no one had told him it wasn’t or anything...

“Just... be quiet and let the water to its job,” Aomine told him. Ryouta snuck a look over – from here he couldn’t see much, but Aomine had his eyes closed and his head tipped back and resting on the tiles.

He looked away again, feeling like he was intruding upon Aomine’s privacy, somehow.

It took him a while for his body to feel relaxed enough that he felt up to the task of scrubbing away all the sweat and dirt all over his body. It took him longer than usual, and involved a lot of complaining.

Finally, Aomine made a disgusted noise. “Do you need help or something?”

“No,” Ryouta muttered.

“Then will you be _quiet_?”

“Fine.”

Silence fell across the bath then, the only sounds being the water against the tiles and the splashing as Ryouta washed his hair.

Then he tried to get up, and his legs almost slipped out from under him. Pain zipped up his arms as he steadied himself – he was not going to be able to get himself out.

Well, shit.

He peeked over at Aomine. He’d opened his eyes at the sound of his splashing, and was looking at him in a somewhat evaluative manner.

He let himself slide lower into the water. He didn’t want to admit he couldn’t get up, that he wasn’t going to be able to get out alone.

Because it meant Aomine would have to help him, Aomine who was naked was going to have to help him, and he was also naked and just...

He couldn’t stay here forever. Ryouta let his head fall back against the tiles and sighed. He should have anticipated this, but he didn’t. This was going to be awkward, and weird, and uncomfortable, but it was also probably the only way he was getting out of the water.

“Aominecchi,” he mumbled. “I can’t get out.”

In the quiet room, filled only with stone and water, his voice carried easily, and sounded louder than he’d intended it to.

“Of course you can’t,” Aomine said, though it was quiet and Ryouta wondered if he’d even intended him to hear it – the water had carried it probably more than Aomine had thought it would. Aomine stood, and Ryouta resolutely did _not_ look at him.

He heard Aomine get out, and then the sound of wet feet on the floor and _oh he’s getting dressed_. That was... reassuring. He couldn’t help but smile at Aomine as he heard him approach.

Aomine had only bothered to put on pants, but that was alright. Ryouta would probably need to have his weight supported a little bit until he could shuffle around on level ground, and he would just get Aomine’s shirt wet if he was wearing it.

“Come on, up you come, old man,” Aomine teased, pulling one of Ryouta’s arms over his shoulder and hoisting him up. Last time he’d been this close with Aomine, he hadn’t been so... undressed, so he hadn’t really gotten to realise how powerfully built Aomine was. He could feel it now; no wonder Aomine had beaten him so soundly for so long yesterday.

“I’m not an old man,” Ryouta grumbled, but he had to admit that he kind of felt like one.

Once Aomine had gotten him out, he shuffled over to where his things were. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to do much today,” he said as he began to dry himself off.

“You’re useless today,” Aomine agreed. Ryouta let his head drop – he didn’t have to be so blunt about it.

He finally managed to get himself dressed, and they began the long shuffle back to Ryouta’s room. Aomine was frustratingly lazy and relaxed as he walked beside him, all annoying loose limbs and painless.

“I hate you.”

Aomine laughed and tugged on his hair. “That’s not very nice.”

He reached to smack his hand, but he was too slow today – Aomine escaped without punishment.

Ryouta was glad to reach his room again. He collapsed gratefully into his bed again. The sheets smelled like they’d been changed, which was also nice.

The bed bounced as Aomine fell onto it beside him, and Ryouta looked at him.

“You’re going to do something dumb if I leave you here alone,” Aomine said, smirking. “So I’ll keep you company.”

“At least make yourself useful and get food,” Ryouta said, and prodded him in the side. “I haven’t had anything to eat today.”

Aomine hauled himself up. “If it will please my bride,” he drawled, and was gone.

It took a while for Aomine to return with the food, but that was okay. Ryouta made himself a nest in the pillows and blankets and found a way to lie down which was minimally uncomfortable – he quickly discovered there wasn’t really any way in which he experienced absolutely no pain.

When Aomine came back, carrying a large plate of food, he cheered. His stomach had been gurgling at him.

Aomine took in his nest, and raised an eyebrow.

“Are you five?”

“It’s comfortable. Are you going to bring the food where I can reach it?”

“Maybe. You don’t need help with this too, princess?” Aomine grinned at him.

Ryouta scowled. “ _No_.”

Aomine dropped to sit down next to him, keeping the food infuriatingly out of reach. “Are you sure? Come and get it, then.”

He struggled for a moment to get up, and then gave up.

“You’re so mean, Aominecchi,” he whined. “It’s not fair.”

Aomine shrugged, and picked something off the platter. “Open up, Ryouta.”

He crossed his arms, but he was hungry, and it wasn’t like there were people around to see it...

“This doesn’t mean anything, Aominecchi,” he said before reluctantly opening his mouth to let Aomine feed him.

Aomine was hiding the food from view – he didn’t know what it was that he was eating when Aomine put it in his mouth.

“I think it does,” Aomine said. “I think it means that you’re a thousand years too early to beat me.”

“I’ll definitely beat you,” Ryouta said after he’d swallowed. “Definitely.”

Aomine snorted, and picked up another thing to feed him. “No, but it’s cute that you think you will.”

Ryouta puffed out his cheeks, feeling indignant. “Okay, first of all,” he started, “I am _not_ —“

Aomine put the food in his mouth.

He made an outraged noise, and was almost tempted to try and spit it back on him, but that seemed unnecessarily gross and Aomine would probably have no reserves about responding in an equally gross manner. So he settled for glaring instead.

“Stop interrupting me like that!”

“But it works so well to get you to shut up.”

And then, even as he tried to get a word in edgewise, Aomine was unfailingly accurate in getting food in. It was frustrating, actually, but Aomine had to run out of food _sometime_...

“What’s the ocean like?”

He blinked. The question felt somewhat like it had come out of nowhere. Aomine leaned over to drop the empty platter on the floor then flopped back on the other side of the pillows which made up his nest.

How does one describe the ocean to someone who’s never seen it?

“Treacherous,” he said. “Beautiful. It’s blue as far as your eyes can see, though sometimes, when it’s stormy, it goes dark and grey. But I like it best on summer days, when it’s hot and you’re on the beach, and the waves are crashing around you.” He closed his eyes and smiled. “I like feeling the water rolling beneath me as it carries me to shore. It’s a force of nature that will take your life as soon as it will spare it.”

He opened his eyes again and turned his head to look at Aomine. “You know,” he said, “your eyes look like the ocean a little bit.”

Aomine was staring at him, so he looked away again. “I think they once compared my family to the ocean,” he continued. “They say we were born of the seas and carry its tireless strength and capricious nature. But I’ve never believed it. None of us are so cold and cruel as the sea.”

It was odd, the quietness from Aomine. Ryouta did what he always did when there was silence, especially ones that felt somewhat awkward – he kept talking. “I like to think we’re more like the sun. It makes sense with the hair, right? We’re all blond like this. It’s uncommon even at home to have this kind of colour. Some people come close after summer, when the sun’s bleached their hair, but it never quite gets the right shade. We get it from Father, although he’s gone very white. I should write to Rika and Hikaru, I haven’t done that yet. And we haven’t been riding either, I feel sorry for whoever has to give Raicchi his exercise; I bet he’s biting them something shocking...”

“My eyes are like the sea?”

Ryouta paused for a moment, as he picked up on that thread. That sounded awfully romantic, actually. He felt heat begin to pour into his face.

“Yes?”

Aomine smirked. “Maybe you don’t care for others’ poetry because you’re a poet yourself. Do you tell all the girls in Kaijo that?”

Ryouta took the muscular pain that came with the effort required in whacking Aomine – it was worth it. “I am only as much a poet as is required for court functions. And I would never tell a girl that. She might get the wrong idea, and I wasn’t really allowed to...” he slowly stopped speaking, feeling suddenly awkward.

“Wasn’t allowed to what?”

He rubbed his face, as if it would stop his cheeks from feeling hot. “I wasn’t allowed to engage that much with them. Kaijo’s very conservative, and as the only prince I was considered very eligible and desirable... a pregnancy scandal would have been a disaster, especially because I’ve been slated for political marriage my whole life.”

“So, wait,” Aomine sat up. “Does that mean that you’ve _never_...”

“I have,” he interrupted. “With girls, a few times... but it was always better not to, I couldn’t afford for a scandal to happen, not since we were so determined to make sure it didn’t matter who Hikaru married...”

He looked away from Aomine. “I didn’t care that much about the whole marriage thing, but Hikaru would never have been happy. It was worth it, for her.”

He tilted his head back, suddenly remembering Daichi. “But you’ve clearly been busy.”

“There were people,” Aomine said.

“Anyone I should know about?” Ryouta asked, curious. He wanted to roll over onto his stomach, but didn’t think it would be worth the pain of moving.

“Eh, no one special or anything,” he answered. “Just people.”

Ryouta hummed. “I know I didn’t hear anything back ho—I mean, back in Kaijo about you being married. Say, tell me about all these names I keep hearing people call you.”

“You’ll have to be more specific; people call me lots of names.”

 

* * *

 

While there was still significant stiffness and soreness upon waking the next morning, all in all, Ryouta felt _much_ better, and more mobile when he woke up the next day.

Some of his more casual Touou-style clothes had come in from the seamstresses last night – he pulled them on feeling oddly exposed somehow. But it was best to acclimate, and try to integrate. At least his boots were still alright. Breaking in new boots would have sucked.

He headed down to breakfast in a cheerful mood; he’d woken earlier than usual, probably because he’d gone to bed earlier due to his extreme desire to not move any more than absolutely necessary.

Aomine and Daichi were in the dining hall when he arrived. He sat down next to them and smiled.

“Good morning.”

Aomine looked a little sleepy still, but Daichi was wide awake. His attention was instantly moved away from his father.

“Good morning,” Daichi answered. “Will you take me to see your horse today?”

“If I can,” Ryouta answered. Daichi climbed over Aomine to sit himself on Ryouta’s lap.

He reached over to get at some food, when he heard a somewhat nostalgic shrieking and giggling rapidly approaching. He looked up towards the door.

Two girls came bounding in, and had they been blonde and fair-skinned, he could have thought they were much like his own sisters when they were little.

“Oi, you two,” came Aomine’s gravelly voice. He really must have barely woken up. “Quiet.”

“Who’s _that_?” asked the red-haired one, pointing at Ryouta.

“My bride,” Aomine said. “It’s rude to point, Akemi.”

She blushed a little at her manners, and sat herself down like a princess. Next to her, the younger girl had already settled. “How can he be your bride? He’s a man. He should be my husband instead.”

“Father saw him first,” Daichi said from Ryouta’s lap. “And I saw him after, so even if he didn’t belong to Father, he’d be mine.”

Akemi stood up. “No! That’s not fair! And if you already met him that means it’s someone else’s turn to sit with him.” She stood up and tugged on Daichi’s arm.

“Wait,” Ryouta said, but it was drowned out by Daichi’s yelling as he was pulled away. He looked at Aomine, overwhelmed, and then felt fingers clutch at his arm.

“Mine,” said the other girl.

Aomine groaned. “It’s too early for this,” he said even as he stood up and hooked an arm each around the squabbling pair to haul them both away from Ryouta. “Stop making such a scene at breakfast.”

The girl whose name Ryouta didn’t know yet moved quickly and quietly to settle into his lap. “My name is Aomine Sora,” she said. “What’s your name?”

Daichi had a petulant face where he was hanging under his father’s arm. “His name is Ryouta.”

“My name is Kise Ryouta,” he amended. “Prince of Kaijo.”

Aomine sighed and sat down, keeping a firm grip on the kids in his arms in case they attempted to begin fighting again.

“Aominecchi,” he started to ask, feeling awkward for even having to bring it up. “Are they all—“

“Yes, they’re all mine,” Aomine answered. “Are you two going to stop fighting? I can’t hold you both and eat.”

“I can feed you, Father,” Akemi said, voice intentionally sweet, and she batted her eyes at him. Daichi attempted to kick her.

Aomine shook them both.

“Do you need help, Ryouta?” asked Sora.

“I’m alright, thank you,” he said, faintly. She reached over for some food, and offered it to him anyway. He took it from her hand, and though he could see she was dissatisfied with his choice to do so, she didn’t do anything about it.

Momoi came in then, and she laughed at Aomine’s sour expression.

“I’m glad you’re up, Ki-chan,” she said, settling down across the table. “The seamstresses have a few preliminary wedding outfit designs they want to get your input on.”

That startled Ryouta a bit back to reality. The _wedding_. He’d completely forgotten about it, despite it being the ultimate object of his arrival here; more than that, he’d forgotten that weddings were a big job no matter where you were, and tended to become a bigger job the more important the people involved in it were.

“Oh, Momocchi, I’m so sorry!” he apologised. “I should have offered to help out sooner...”

She waved her hand. “We have a lot of stuff already organised,” she said, “because we knew that the wedding was coming. We need to go out and get you sized for jewellery too, though. You’ve been so busy with Dai-chan that I haven’t been able to catch you.”

Muttered grumbles were heard from the three children.

“Right. When did you want to do that, Momocchi?”

“I was hoping today,” she said. “Of course the jeweller will prioritise the things for you, but it’ll still take some time, and I’d like to have it done as soon as possible. That will mean a trip into the city.” She looked at Aomine. “Did you have anything planned for today?”

Aomine shrugged. “Not really.”

“Ryouta’s taking me to see his horse,” Daichi said.

Momoi looked at Aomine, who sighed.

“Another time. Or we’ll come find you when we get back, and if the nurses say you’ve been good.”

The boy sighed and crossed his arms.

“Do I have to dress up a bit more if we’re going out?” Ryouta asked.

Momoi looked him over. “Probably not, but if you’d be more comfortable, we’re not in any hurry to leave.”

He shook his head. “No, I just wanted to check.”

She smiled. “Well, whenever you’re ready, we can head off.”

“I want to see the horses,” Daichi muttered.

“If you say horse one more time,” Aomine said, “you are never getting one. Ever.”

Daichi matched his look. “If you’d just let me _have one_...”

Momoi smothered her laughter beneath a cough, and Ryouta struggled to keep his own straight face. To help prevent an untimely laugh, he reached over for some more food, watching the pair stare each other down.

Daichi looked away first.

“I’m pretty much finished eating,” Ryouta told Momoi. “So, seamstresses and jeweller?”

Momoi nodded, and Ryouta shifted Sora off his lap so he could stand. Now that there was going to be no Ryouta to fight over, Aomine seemed happy enough to let Akemi and Daichi go. Momoi stood then.

“Be good,” Aomine told the kids. “Don’t give the nurses too much trouble.” That specific warning seemed aimed more at Daichi than at the girls; he seemed to realise that, and he kicked at the floor and looked away.

Touou’s castle was further from the city than Kaijo’s was, which was why Ryouta found that he was finally being led to the stables, and he grinned.

Raiden was easy to spot, and Ryouta bounded towards him eagerly.

“Have you been a good boy, Raicchi?” he cooed, going to pet him gently. “You haven’t been giving them too much trouble?”

He felt Raiden move, more than saw his target; he was about to pre-emptively apologise even as he attempted to hold his head, but Raiden missed his target through none of Ryouta’s own efforts. Aomine had dodged away quickly, looking somewhat bemused by the horse’s antagonistic actions.

“Ah... I guess Raicchi doesn’t like Aominecchi,” he said. He tried not to giggle – it wasn’t really appropriate to admit that he’d never done much to curb the horse’s meaner tendencies, and instead found amusement in the way he attempted to bite most people. “It’s okay, Raicchi! Aominecchi’s not that bad.”

The three of them prepared their horses individually; Ryouta tried to make sure Raiden was kept a safe distance from Aomine as they led them out of the stable, even though Aomine had shown he was more than capable of the reflexes needed to dodge the temperamental horse’s teeth. There was a small group of guards hanging around the courtyard too, and Ryouta had to wonder how Momoi had known that they would be ready and free to go.

They rode at a leisurely pace towards the city. It was a lovely day out, not too hot or windy, and Ryouta could feel Raiden itch to pick up the pace and race along the road. Or take a bite at Aomine, who he was riding beside. Aomine’s horse, however, seemed to notice Raiden’s ill-will towards his rider, and carefully kept them from his biting range.

“Oh!” Momoi said on Aomine’s other side. “We should show Ki-chan the gardens where the ceremony will be held too, don’t you think, Dai-chan?”

Aomine made a non-committal noise.

“We’ll go get those samousas you really like, come on, Dai-chan!”

He sighed. “Fine.”

Ryouta smiled, although he felt a little uncomfortable. He still tried not to think too much about the whole _getting married to Aomine_ thing, though it seemed in the upcoming period to the wedding, he wasn’t going to be able to avoid it. He looked at Aomine – he didn’t seem too bothered by the whole thing, but Ryouta didn’t really know him well enough to be able to tell.

Momoi was talking at the pair of them; Ryouta listened with half an ear as she spoke about the arrangements that had already been sorted out for the wedding. A lot of it already seemed to have been organised, which was a bit of a relief; he wouldn’t really have to do much other than weigh in on outfit designs.

When they reached the city, they left the horses in the stable of a trusted innkeeper before they headed further in. The city itself was very different to the capital at home, and Ryouta found himself looking around curiously, caught up trying to see everything he possibly could and still keep up with Momoi and Aomine’s walking pace.

“We’ll show you around later, Ki-chan,” Momoi told him, laughing. “Keep up!”

He grinned and trotted the few necessary steps to catch up, and hooked his arm around Momoi’s.

Aomine seemed very tempted to wander away from them a few times, when Ryouta could smell food, but he didn’t actually go, though he always looked somewhat grumpier as the smell began to fade. Ryouta was glad when they finally arrived at the seamstresses’ shop, though he was surprised when it was Momoi who was brought along into the design room, and not Aomine.

“Won’t he leave?” Ryouta asked.

“No,” Momoi asked, smiling cheerfully. “But we probably still shouldn’t make him wait too long.”

As they looked over the three designs, Ryouta looked to Momoi. “What do you think would be most appropriate?” he asked as he examined them. “I’ll be comfortable no matter what, but I don’t really know what would be considered most appropriate in the circumstances.”

She hummed. “I’d go with something a bit more elegant,” she said, putting aside one of the designs. “Especially because you’re very good looking, Ki-chan, and because of your role in coming here, I think it would be best for you to look more like a bride than a groom.” She picked one of them up for a closer look. “I like this one, I think. It has lots of blue and gold, which is perfect for you.”

He took the design off her so that he could take a closer look at it too. The outfit appeared to have three layers to it, though he wasn’t entirely sure. A dark blue skirt with a thick gold hem, and a gold dress layer over the top of that, which was then covered with a long blue robe edged and embroidered in gold. He tilted his head as he looked at it.

“It’s not _too_ feminine?” he asked. “I mean, I don’t mind, but. It’s not like I’m not a man at all...”

“Be a trendsetter, Ki-chan!” Momoi said, pouting. “Do you know how boring Dai-chan’s outfit is? I’ll give you a hint. It looks almost exactly like the outfit you met him in, and that he wore the other night.”

Ryouta laughed. “Well, alright,” he agreed. “It is a beautiful outfit. Can I just ask for the veil in white?”

He thought about waves crashing against the shore; all that was missing was the white foam of a breaking swell to complete the colour scheme.

Momoi clapped her hands. “Of course you can, Ki-chan! Excellent. Ladies, you have his measurements already; thank you for your hard work! Just send word to the castle when we need Ki-chan to come in for the proper fitting.”

When they arrived back in the entrance, Aomine was eating something round and flat.

“Dai-chan! Don’t you know we’re going to the jeweller next?” Momoi asked, exasperated. “You need clean hands for ring sizing!”

“It’ll be fine,” he said, and took another bite. Ryouta noticed that he had crumbs all over him. “And here I was saving some for you. I guess you don’t want any.”

Momoi sighed and pushed the door open for them to leave, and Ryouta followed her. “Dai-chan, Ki-chan needs to keep his hands clean for the ring fitting.”

Aomine smirked. “I can see an easy answer to that problem.”

“No,” Ryouta started, “Aominecchi—“

“It’s bread with sticky melted brown sugar,” Aomine told him, completely ignoring that he was speaking and tearing a piece of the bread off. “It might be too sweet for you, but try it.”

“Aominecchi, please don’t—“

Ryouta wished Aomine wasn’t so fast to react to openings.

“Aominecchi, we’re in _public_ ,” he whined after he finished chewing and swallowing.

“But you can’t use your hands,” Aomine said, and he tore off another piece, though this one he ate himself.

People around them were starting to realise who they were, so Momoi picked up their walking pace and scolded them. “Stop teasing Ki-chan and hurry up, Dai-chan.”

The big jewellery markets apparently weren’t too far away; Ryouta tried to make a note and figure out how the city was organised. As they walked, though, he began to notice that more and more people were watching them, identifying them, and he was fairly certain that a number of them were looking specifically at _him_.

“Momocchi, why did you tell me I didn’t need to change?” he muttered. “If I’d known we were going to attract so much attention I would have dressed up a bit more...”

“Ki-chan, that would have just attracted more attention,” she said, and laughed, because Aomine had managed to get another piece of the bread in Ryouta’s mouth and he was making an outraged expression.

The markets themselves were a cacophony of glitter and colour. Ryouta felt his head spin as Aomine and Momoi easily navigated the stalls full of gold and silver and shining jewels in every colour imaginable. Obviously there was a specific destination in mind.

He knew when they’d reached the desired shop’s front, because it was much more private than a lot of the other stalls. The shop keeper at the front also seemed to be expecting them, and ushered them inside. Momoi turned to Aomine just before entering.

“Go clean your hands,” she ordered.

He rolled his eyes, but he popped the last of the bread in his mouth and wandered off. Momoi sighed, and turned to him.

“Honestly...”

By the time Aomine came back, Ryouta had already had his finger sized for a ring, and he and Momoi were looking at other jewellery.

“Do you think I could pull this off with just the one ear piercing, Momocchi?” he asked, indicating at the large golden hoop. “It seems like it would be unbalanced, but I don’t really want to get the other one done...”

“Not with your wedding outfit,” she answered. “It wouldn’t work. Do you have a sapphire? That would work.”

Ryouta shook his head. “All of the jewellery in the family belongs to my sisters.”

Aomine sighed as the drapes closed behind him, and it caught Momoi’s attention. “It’s about time! You took ages on purpose, didn’t you?”

“I did not,” Aomine grumbled.

“I’m charging Ki-chan’s jewellery to your account,” she continued, “because you never spend it anyway.”

Aomine made an irritated noise.

“You should definitely buy me these rubies to say thank you for all my hard work!”

He looked at her and raised an eyebrow. “You already have lots of rubies.”

“Well, I guess you can organise your _own_ wedding then,” she told him.

Aomine groaned, and then the jeweller came back in. He smiled at Aomine, and Ryouta got the feeling that he was quite familiar with the royal pair currently arguing in his tent.

“Just give her whatever she wants,” Aomine said to him.

Momoi smiled, pleased, and Ryouta laughed quietly. Aomine gave them both dirty looks as the jeweller began to size his finger for a ring.

Once their purchases were safely in Momoi’s hands, Aomine put his foot down.

“I thought I was getting samousas,” he grizzled.

“Oh fine. We’ll get them, and _then_ we’ll go to the garden.”

He looked marginally happier about this concession, and Ryouta let the pair of them lead him through the market, and tried not to get left behind as he tried to take in all the things that glittered at him.

Aomine looked back at him, and grabbed his wrist. “Don’t get lost, it’ll be impossible to find you in here,” he muttered.

“I’m not _trying_ to get lost!” he complained. “I never get lost on purpose!”

When they got out on the other side of the market, Aomine’s hand retreated, and Ryouta noticed that he’d also had a hold on Momoi. He walked faster than the two of them, clearly with a location in mind. Ryouta smiled at Momoi, who was watching him fondly.

“He’s rough around the edges,” she commented, “but Dai-chan has his heart in the right place.”

Ryouta nodded, and tried to swallow the queasy feeling that stirred in his stomach at the serious note in her voice.

“I was surprised when he finally agreed to get married,” she continued, her voice a little quieter. Aomine found the street-side stall he’d been heading towards, and they stood to the side and quite likely out of range of his hearing. “I always kind of thought that he’d been holding out on the marriage thing because he grew up hearing stories about our father and his mother.”

The more she spoke, the more the heavy, sick feeling settled in Ryouta’s stomach. He didn’t really want to hear this, didn’t want to hear about love stories and Aomine’s potential misgivings, but she wasn’t stopping.

“I guess I thought maybe Dai-chan was holding out hope that he’d meet that someone special. Not that you aren’t special, of course, Ki-chan! And I am glad that he’s going to marry you. You make Dai-chan happier, I think.”

Ryouta was saved from having to try and find the words to speak when Aomine returned with the food, looking pleased with himself.

“Alright, one last stop, and then we can go home,” Momoi said, and reached out to take one of Aomine’s samousas. He snatched them away, but only after she’d managed to take one. Since his reflexes were usually much better, Ryouta knew he’d let her take it.

“So, where are we—“ _going_ was how that sentence was supposed to end, but Aomine had put one of his samousas in his mouth. He frowned at him. Momoi, however, didn’t seem to need him to finish his question.

“The gardens are a little bit of a walk away, but I definitely want to show them to you,” she said. “They’re really beautiful. It wasn’t the right time of year for me to get married in them, and of course my wedding wasn’t really so much of a big deal as yours will be.”

Ryouta tried not to be aware of the way people were watching them as they walked, the way that some of them would point and whisper whenever Aomine managed to slip food in his mouth. It was hard, though, when he felt so under-dressed for a public appearance. It felt as if part of the mask was missing, as if he was being exposed. His first public appearance, and it was like this?

He was grateful when they reached the walled-off gardens, and some measure of privacy was afforded to them. Or he would have been, if he hadn’t been struck by the beauty of the gardens.

Momoi was right, of course – it would be a beautiful location for the wedding, surrounded by greenery and flowers. Ryouta imagined that tents similar to the ones he’d been received in when he first arrived, except larger, set up and full to the brim with well-dressed guests celebrating in sunshine and surrounded by colour. Not all the flowers were blooming yet, but by the looks of it, they would drape across the garden like a delicate, colourful carpet.

“What do you think, Ki-chan? It’s beautiful, right?”

Well, that much he could admit. “Yes,” he said. “It’s a beautiful place. Perfect for a wedding.”

Momoi beamed. “I thought so!”

They spent a few minutes walking around, and Momoi detailed how she envisioned the event, and Ryouta nodded along dutifully as he’d been trained.

Despite the beauty of their surroundings, he was gladder than he should have been when they finally started heading back to their horses, and the distraction of keeping the restless Raiden in line distracted him from his thoughts, until they settled onto something else disconcerting, something that had flitted through his overwhelmed mind that morning at breakfast.

But that wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have in front of Momoi. He felt it would be awkward enough to have without her there listening in.

So instead, as they cleared the city, he grinned at Aomine. “Let’s have a race, Aominecchi.”

Aomine smirked. “Surely you don’t think you can keep up an extended race in your condition.”

“I’ll definitely win,” Ryouta claimed. “Raicchi won’t accept anything less than victory.”

He kicked Raiden into a gallop and laughed as he heard Aomine swear behind him.

Unfortunately, Aomine was right – his body, still sore and achy from the other day, was not really up to the task of extended horse racing, though Raiden clearly itched for more. He had to stop before Aomine; the other man’s resulting grin was just as annoying as he’d thought it would be.

But the race had had its true desired outcome; they had separated from Momoi and their extended retinue, who’d been trailing them at a subtle distance all day. Honestly, Ryouta hadn’t noticed them, though that didn’t say much, when he was used to having guards hovering all the time. They settled the horses into a leisurely walking pace.

“Aominecchi...”

He looked over. “Hmm?”

Ryouta hadn’t really thought about what he was about to say, but it felt too important to leave for too long, and he’d already come this far... “With the children... do I have to be their mother or something?”

Aomine looked at him like he was saying something especially stupid. “That’s what the nurses are for. But I’m sure they’d like it if you played with them. They get bored and lonely sometimes when we’re all busy.”

Though it was probably unintentional, Ryouta was hit with his own memories of growing up in Kaijo’s palace, of Rika and Hikaru and the boring lessons they would skip and the restrictions on his activities and the boredom that only grew as he got older and his sisters settled down and got busier and more responsible. He wasn’t really the parenting type, he didn’t think, but...

“Alright. I don’t think I’d mind playing sometimes. My sisters always did say I never really grew up.” He smiled, then. “After all, even though I’m not their parent, they’re still going to be my family, right?”

“Yeah...”

With that cleared up, Ryouta cast that particular topic into the ‘dealt with’ pile, and studiously re-routed his thoughts around the events of the wedding. In particular, he tried to avoid thinking about the events _after_ the wedding. After all, the wedding itself was just another performance, and that Ryouta could handle just fine. He’d been up close and personal with Hikaru’s wedding; he knew the kind of looks he should cast and the little actions to make.

 It was the things that couples were supposed to do _after_ the wedding that he had been attempting not to think about pretty much since everything had begun to settle in.

Honestly, the idea unsettled him, when he did take the time to think about it. Such things weren’t spoken of in polite society at home; in fact they were rarely acknowledged as a thing that happened, although Ryouta was sure he’d heard of it. Maybe once or twice, while gossiping about lower, unmarried nobles with more powerful ones.

But it didn’t seem like something that would be any kind of fun or enjoyable, especially when he thought of his particular role as the ‘bride’.

_How do girls do this_ , he wondered. Suddenly, Hikaru’s desire for a love match made a lot more sense. He could imagine maybe if you loved someone, you’d want to give them pleasure even if the experience was less than enjoyable for yourself.

Aomine was nice, all things told, and Ryouta probably could have married far less interesting women, and even far less likeable men. But Ryouta did not love him.

And he certainly did not feel okay with the idea of letting Aomine...

He stopped that train of thought before his face started to give something away – either his discomfort for his thoughts, or his embarrassment over thinking about something like that.

Well, the wedding was still a little while away still. He didn’t have to think about it just yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick reminder that both Crissy and I are participating in the Perfect Copy challenge! After Crissy's next chapter, we'll be focusing on that, so there probably won't be another update until after our submissions for that are done.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (05/06/2015): Look at art done by drawverylittle! [Aomine in his wedding clothes](http://drawverylittle.tumblr.com/post/118270273461/aomine-daiki-where-my-heart-resides-tagged)!

The days before the wedding were spent preparing for it though if you looked to Daiki, he really wasn’t involved in much. Satsuki was more than competent in handling the preparations and Ryouta was happy enough to help when he could. Usually, Daiki was only around as an escort though even then his presence wasn’t really that needed. It wasn’t as if Touou didn’t have enough soldiers who could be stationed to watch over Satsuki and Ryouta as they went about wedding plans and preparations but Daiki preferred that it was him.

True, talk of clothes, jewelry and decorations did not interest him but there really wasn’t anything else he could be doing. Training for the armies were efficiently handled by other people and well, he liked to at least have an idea what Satsuki and Ryouta were doing at a given time. It was just unfortunate that his newfound playmate was nowadays usually more concerned with what silks to adorn himself with rather than to take the time to pick up a sword. Not that Ryouta wasn’t open to sparring should the opportunity presented itself but as it was, the wedding took priority over getting Ryouta more acquainted with Touou’s swordstyle.

“You boys can play after you’re married.” Satsuki had declared one day, frazzled about something concerning flowers, eyes with a manic look in them after catching the two of them getting ready to sneak away from her grasp.

And so Daiki was left being idle and bored until he remembered something rather crucial to Touou’s wedding traditions. It was surprising that Satsuki hadn’t reminded him but then again, perhaps she was too busy. Or for once trusted that he would remember, which was strange but not entirely unthinkable. Walking around the city with Satsuki and Ryouta afforded him the opportunity to mull about it, consider his options, but in the end he felt that nothing he saw was right.

A gift from a groom to his bride.

No, Ryouta had enough jewelry and clothes though those were the usual traditional gifts.

Daiki had a better idea.

 

* * *

 

“I want a sword.”

Daiki sighed deeply, eyes closing as if praying for a higher power to give him patience. The statement was not unexpected but it was probably Daiki’s conditioned response whenever Daichi said he wanted something. He cast an unimpressed look down at his son who was looking wide-eyed at the gleaming sword before him, practically just an arm’s length away. Daiki made sure his grip on Daichi’s hand was unshakable; it wouldn’t do if Daichi cut himself.

Before father and son was a sword of excellent Touou craftsmanship, beautiful yet deadly as it lay in rest over a bed of the finest silk. The blade was sheathed in its engraved scabbard but was most definitely sharp as Daiki trusted his favorite swordsmith and he had never let him down in the calibre of his blades. The handle, meanwhile, was encrusted with precious stones, most notably a bright yellow topaz at the center. It was elegant but functional and Daiki had a feeling Ryouta wouldn’t find a single fault in it, maybe even more than appreciate it.

“Are you really giving Prince Ryouta a sword, Father?”

His train of thought was interrupted when Akemi spoke up from across him, her little pretty face set in a bit of a frown. Beside her, Sora was looking at the sword quite intently too, her dark head bowed.

“You don’t think a sword would be a good gift to him, Akemi?” Daiki asked though he really didn’t need to. The answer was clear in Akemi’s disapproving expression that really reminded him too much of Satsuki. He wondered half-seriously if it was really a wise decision to have them spend so much time together.

“It’s your wedding gift!” Akemi answered, looking exasperated and every inch the proper little princess from her perfect hair to her perfect clothes and Daiki wanted to sigh again. “You should give him a ring instead!”

“I like the sword.” Daichi spoke up from his side again and Daiki wondered if he meant that he liked the sword for himself. He wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case.

Instead, Daiki agreed with his son’s opinion. “I like the sword too for Ryouta and I think he wouldn’t think it’s bad.” And he studiously ignored Akemi’s disapproving huff. She could terrorize her future groom about her own wedding gift when she was older. Daiki could already tell that she would be a force to reckon with, much like her Aunt Satsuki.

“Father?”

Daiki turned his attention to his youngest at the sound of her quiet but inquiring tone. Sora looked at him with eyes that were definitely his and asked,

“When will we get to use swords?”

Akemi gasped, scandalized, “Sora!”

“Girls can’t use swords!” Daichi put in quickly before looking up at Daiki to confirm it. “Isn’t that right, Father?”

Sora just looked to Daiki calmly, unflinching under her sibling’s disapproval, and Daiki had to smirk a little. Sometimes, Sora really surprised him. He looked from one child to another, taking in the different looks in their faces, and said,

“I tell you what, if you’re all good and you all would want to, we’ll get you started on preparation for training sometime after the wedding.”

That made Sora smile and Daichi and Akemi’s eyes to widen. A few seconds of silence as the news sunk in before the room exploded in chatter. Daiki let them talk over each other as he busied himself with putting the sword away.

All this sudden excitement wouldn’t be good with a dangerous weapon out in the open, no matter how beautiful and harmless it looked just lying there. The sword had been judged and it was found worthy, no matter how unconventional it may be as a wedding gift but then again the whole circumstance of his wedding was as unconventional as they came.

 

* * *

 

The day of his wedding started out earlier than usual. He really didn’t plan it that way but somehow, his mind knew that he had to be early today. He was awake when the sun rose, staring up at the canopy of his bed, his body loose and relaxed, mind quiet and calm. It took him a few minutes before he finally got up, rolling across skin-warmed sheets and squinting at the warm sunlight streaming in from a nearby window. His feet were steady when he got up on them and just like any other day that had passed recently, his steps took him to Ryouta’s room.

But Ryouta wasn’t there when he went to see him.

“Where is he?” He asked one of the servants who saw to Ryouta’s needs since he came to the palace.

She looked hesitant, looking to the other servants for an answer but the rest were busy or tried to look busy. “We… Aren’t supposed to tell you, Your Highness.”

Daiki stared at her until she fidgeted uncomfortably and by then, he already knew where his errant bride might be. Some minutes later, he was walking a path that went deep into the palace grounds, heading toward a special place. A place that he was not supposed to be but when did Aomine Daiki ever follow through when he was told not to do something?

At the end of the path was what looked like a house made of stone. It didn’t seem like anything special, just another part of the palace but of course Aomine knew better. This was the place he was not to go and this was where Ryouta must be. For all that it was supposed to keep people out, it wasn’t well guarded and Aomine could get in through the front door but decided to go around. Just to be safe. Who knew if Satsuki actually bothered to post guards there to stop him?

There was a door in the back and it gave without resistance when he pushed to open it. He took the time to peer inside carefully before slipping in. Instantly, he was greeted by almost humid warmth and the fragrant smell of flowers and oils and by these signs he knew he wasn’t mistaken. Most days, this place was left alone as it was only used for special occasions and today was definitely a special occasion.

He carefully made his way down a particular corridor, making sure to watch his step as the lights were dim though they reflected against the multicolored tiled walls. When he came to a door at the end, he carefully and quietly let himself through.

Inside was a large pool filled with water streaming in from a fountain at the head of the room. In here, the fragrant scents were strong and Aomine was pretty sure he would definitely be carrying them in his clothes after he had left. Flowers in pinks, yellows and reds floated in the water but their prettiness didn’t compare to the one the pool was made ready for.

“Who’s there?”

Daiki approached one end of the pool and had to smile for in the water among the flowers was his bride.  

Ryouta’s skin was pink from the warmth of the water as he sat in deep enough that most of him from the chest down was covered. He must have been here for a while. He was of course surprised to see him, golden eyes wide at the sight of him.

“Aominecchi…” He murmured Daiki’s name before quickly wading toward him as he realized something. “You’re not supposed to be here!”

His voice bounced against the walls of the room, filling the formerly peaceful and quiet sanctuary with sound, and Daiki chuckled deeply. Amused, he came even closer until he was sitting by the side of the pool to be able to see and speak with Ryouta better. Looking at him reminded him of a mermaid. “Good morning. You’re looking flushed but it is kind of warm in here…”

“Aominecchi!” Those cheeks were puffed in outrage and Daiki was sad Ryouta wasn’t close enough for him to poke them. “What are you doing here? You’re not allowed.”

Daiki shrugged, unconcerned. “If they wanted to keep me out, they should’ve gotten guards.”

Ryouta was still frowning at him. There was a pink flower petal stuck in his hair near his eyes and Daiki itched to pick it off. “Isn’t this supposed to be a tradition for the bride and the bride only?” He sighed then, exasperated as if he knew Daiki didn’t care. “Cleansing and all that?”

“Cleansing to make you ready for joining my family and purifying you for… Other things …” His voice purposely dropped as he trailed off and it was with pleasure that he watched Ryouta’s cheeks turn pinker at what he was insinuating. Daiki let that hang in the air between them for a moment before he offered mercy and said, “I have a gift for you.”

That gave Ryouta an opening and he seemed more grateful than curious at the mention of a gift. “A gift?” He asked, moving closer unconsciously. His pale fingers lightly gripped over the edge of the pool’s walls. “You got me one? I don’t have one for you…”

“It’s fine.” Ryouta was finally close enough and Daiki reached to pick off the petal that bothered him so much. He ignored whatever Ryouta’s reaction to that before moving to show him his gift. Even in the low lights of the room, the sword and its scabbard gleamed and it was with care that he held it for Ryouta’s inspection. “This is tradition here too, a groom has to give his bride a gift before they’re wed. The traditional gifts are jewelry or clothing but I figured you’d like this better.”

For a moment, Daiki thought Ryouta would reach for the sword, he didn’t look like he hated it, but then at the last second, drew his hand back.

“It’s not like I don’t like it or anything, Aominecchi. It’s a fine sword. I’m sure it’ll be amazing when I can actually use it,” Ryouta said quickly in assurance, “but right now…”

He trailed off, his cheeks pink still with that blush from earlier and obviously embarrassed as he stayed still in the water, and Daiki kind of understood.

“...Right.” Daiki drawled, glancing around him then as if he finally remembered where he was. In a bridal bath house with his pink and naked bride.

“Yes…”

“I didn’t really think this through.”

“Did you even stop to plan it out, Aominecchi?”

Daiki flicked some water at Ryouta at that, leaving him sputtering indignantly.

“Aominecchi!”

“Fine, I’m going.” He moved to get up, grinning as he sidestepped Ryouta’s efforts at splashing him back. “Remember to meditate and think fondly of your most generous husband-to-be.”

Ryouta was so red that he probably thought it was a good idea to hide it by sinking deeper into the water until only his head can be seen over the wall of the pool. “Get out...”

“Going, going.” And he made his way out, taking Ryouta’s sword back with him and escaping further attempts at splashing and his bride’s annoyed glares.

The day wasn’t starting out too badly at least.

 

* * *

 

After his bath house escapades, it was a bit less exciting. He had breakfast and then his own bath which concluded with getting his hair trimmed and face shaved. All clean and polished, he was then ready to get dressed for the wedding itself.

Satsuki hadn’t completely excused him from visits to the seamstresses. Aside from getting his measurements, the seamstresses also had an assortment of cloth and patterns from him to personally choose from. Satsuki made sure he took the time out of his not-so-busy schedule to attend to this though obviously she still ended up choosing for him. At least Satsuki had good taste and cared a lot about how he looked on his wedding day.

In the end, they settled on a deep blue coat with golden trim around the collar, shoulders and sleeves over white loose pants. The coat brought out the blues in Daiki’s hair and eyes and accentuated his broad shoulders, the seamstresses said and even Daiki himself thought he looked good. Good enough to stand beside Ryouta who would obviously look beautiful.

He was making final adjustments to the sleeves and collar when Satsuki came to check on him. She was already dressed in vibrant red to match her new rubies and of course he noticed.

“I like your rubies.” He said just as she reached to adjust the fabric along his shoulders, eyebrows raised.

She gave him an innocent-looking grin. “Why, thank you. They’re a gift, you know?”

Daiki snorted, shook his head. Of course he knew. He was pretty sure those rubies put a bit of a dent on his account on top of Ryouta’s sapphires. Satsuki just smiled, brushing her fingers lightly over the smooth material of his coat.

“You look very handsome.”

He inclined his head to her at the compliment. “You chose very well.”

“So,” Satsuki said after a bit of a deep breath and it was kind of odd but Daiki had a feeling she was nervous. Honestly, Satsuki really did worry about him too much. “how are you feeling?”

He shrugged, “I’m all right.”

“Are you sure?” She prompted, smiling even as she continued to make adjustments here and there on his coat. “Not nervous or anything?”

He nodded, “Yes.”

Silence. Satsuki soon stopped fussing, her hands hanging uselessly in the air suddenly, and by instinct Daiki took one of them in his. He squeezed gently and she squeezed back.

“Are you happy, Dai-chan?” She asked in a hushed whisper and he wasn’t surprised when he heard more than saw the impending tears.

Daiki had to pause at the question though of course he knew the answer. He’d known since meeting Ryouta and became convinced of it as the days went by and he spent them in his bride’s company to prepare for this day. Satsuki was looking at him then with wide, knowing eyes and the tears were there. She knew before he had to say anything; she always had.

“...I’m all right.” He told her, never thinking he could get away with a lie though the truth stung and had a bitter taste. He was calm about it, resigned though a part of him felt hollow and he still wasn’t quite sure why. It wasn’t as if he didn’t agree to this arranged marriage and he knew the purpose of it. So why does he still feel empty? He shouldn’t really be feeling anything at all but this emptiness was probably worse somehow.

“Dai-chan…” Satsuki usually knew what to say, what to do but at that moment she seemed to be as at a loss as he was. Satsuki was also less adept at keeping her feelings to herself when it counted and it was hard to bear the naked concern and pity in her eyes. He really hated it when he made her cry.

He squeezed her hand again, forcing a bit of a smile. He probably looked terrible, he was not a showmaster like Ryouta, but it was better than nothing. “Stop crying. I know it’s my wedding day but it hasn’t even started yet. You can cry later, all right?”

A sob came anyway though she tried her best to keep her shoulders from heaving. He helped dry her eyes and soon sent her away to check on Ryouta after assuring her again and again that he could take it from there because he had to start taking care of himself sometime.

He watched her go and did his best to ignore just how he suddenly felt so alone.

 

* * *

 

The wedding was supposed to take place in a beautiful garden with a sea of sky-blue flowers, stretching out beyond the eye can see. The place actually made Daiki feel a bit nervous if he were to be honest, though Satsuki repeatedly made sure that there were no bees to be found anywhere. Being stung by a bee was a very painful and traumatizing experience that he really didn’t want a repeat of, especially on his wedding day and in front of their guests.

Daiki supposed he should be mingling, greeting guests and taking the time to make sure that they were all doing well. Some of them came from far flung places after all; his marriage to Kaijo’s Prince Kise Ryouta was an event not to be missed by those invited and not everyone lived within the city itself. But of course Daiki didn’t really feel like he wanted to. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t met everyone there that needed to be met and wouldn’t see them again should another special occasion arose. Touou was also known for its numerous festivals and holidays. He’ll be sure to see these people and would again be obligated to greet and speak with them.

Besides, he probably had an excuse today. It was his wedding day, the day when he was to be tied to someone for life, and anyone would think that this day required some breach in the usual protocol. He had to get ready and doing the usual social rounds will just distract him. There would be time for all that after the ceremony anyway. Ryouta would also be there with him and of course that would make things even easier.

It wasn’t long before it was time.

He stood under the shade of a tent, shielded from the heat of the sun though the weather today was just right: not to hot, not to cold, a gentle breeze blowing amongst the flowers and spreading their sweet scent. It was the proper season for a wedding, anyone would say, with the flowers near bloom and the heat not too stifling. The guests were gathered to bear witness to the union, his family upfront with the best view. Belatedly, he wondered if it would have been possible if maybe at least one of Ryouta’s sisters came. Surely Ryouta would have appreciated their presence on this day.

The high priest who was to officiate the ceremony appeared behind him and Daiki looked toward the edge of the crowd where he knew Ryouta would be.

He hadn’t been allowed to see Ryouta wearing the dress that he would be married in, something about bad luck and other superstitious things. Personally, Daiki thought it was just so that he would get the full impact of seeing Ryouta in his full glory as his bride. Even from a far, he could tell that he looked magnificent and it was obviously no coincidence now why Satsuki chose dark blue and gold for his own clothes. They matched and standing side by side, they would look stunning.

Ryouta seemed to float on air as he walked, graceful and unfaltering, the long skirt not a detriment at all to how he moved but only seemed to enhance it. Daiki found himself smiling a little in admiration, thinking to himself how he could not have done better were he in the dress instead and the thought almost made him burst out laughing. Thankfully, Ryouta finally reached him and he was able to stop himself in time. Up close, it was no surprise that the blond prince was beautiful or that he seemed calm, cool and collected. Ryouta was smiling like he couldn’t possibly think of being anywhere else and Daiki found himself smiling back. Ryouta’s smiles, he found earlier on, were infectious and hard to resist. For a moment, he thought that smile on Ryouta’s face faltered but he was probably imagining things. He held out his arm for his bride and Ryouta took it carefully but with warmth.

A quiet hush fell over the gathering when they both faced the high priest and the ceremony began.

For all the preparations for the wedding, the ceremony itself was rather short as they had been informed some days ago. The high priest raised his hands before them, blessing them, and called for a harmonious union, a prayer sent up to the gods to make it so. Then they were asked to face each other and then to hold hands.

It was a bit of a surprise to find that Ryouta’s hands in his were cold. Ryouta was still beaming up at him, smiling brightly and adoringly like a proper bride on his wedding day, yet his hands were chilly to the touch. Daiki tried to be discrete in trying to warm them between his palms and fingers, trying to be assuring, trying to remind him that he wasn’t alone in this and that it would be over soon as more fervent prayers and wishes washed over them both.

A long slip of red silk was then wrapped around their joined hands, to bind them in body, mind and soul for all their lives. Ryouta’s hands in his were trembling slightly and Daiki held them tighter to keep them steady. He looked into Ryouta’s eyes and spoke his vows though later on he wouldn’t even remember what it was he said or what Ryouta answered, too preoccupied with holding Ryouta’s hands and not letting go.

And then there were rings, simple golden bands, and he was slipping one into his bride’s slender fingers, speaking the first of a few words that he would remember later on,

“With this ring I thee wed…”

Ryouta’s hands still trembled a little under his solid grip, even after he slipped Daiki’s ring into his finger but it was almost over by then. Again, he squeezed Ryouta’s hand in reassurance. Just a bit more--

“Kiss!”

Ryouta’s grip quickened and Daiki lifted his head quickly to look out at the crowd.

They were on their feet, cheering and rejoicing, bright smiles everywhere. Satsuki was being held by her husband as she cried as expected. A bit aways from her, his mother stood with his father, her own eyes bright but she was smiling as if this was the proudest day of her life. His father was less reserved as always, grinning widely and happily.

“A kiss for a blessed, happy marriage!” came the cry and everyone else cheered in encouragement.

Daiki had forgotten about the kiss and it seemed that Ryouta wasn’t informed about it or also didn’t remember. Ryouta’s eyes were wide as they looked at him. Anyone else could be fooled into thinking that it could be the newly married bride being coy but this close, Daiki can see the uncertainty and panic. That grip on his hands also told him a lot and it took some effort for Daiki to pull one of his hands free.

“Ryouta…”

He could see how Ryouta braced himself as he lifted his free hand and leaned closer. His fingers that lightly tilted and held Ryouta’s chin up were gentle, his voice low and quiet as he whispered,

“...Close your eyes.”

Dark eyelashes fluttered when those expressive golden eyes finally closed and Daiki took a moment to just look at Ryouta who was trusting him to do this. Beautiful, unattainable Kise Ryouta who was now his.

He leaned and closed the gap between them, pressing his lips to his in a firm but gentle kiss that was to be their first and somehow, to Daiki, felt like their last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As Cassie mentioned, we will both be focusing on our assignments for Perfect Copy for a bit until they're done, so until then, there will most probably not be any updates. But we will be back! :D This AU has not lost its grip on us yet.


	9. Chapter 9

Somehow, the wedding had managed to sneak up on him.

Despite that a lot of the organisational work had already been done, Ryouta had found himself swept up in Momoi’s hectic pace as she asked for his opinions on as many things as she could; he’d felt as if the endless energy he and his sisters were renowned for was taken to its absolute limit as he and Momoi bustled about putting together what parts of the wedding hadn’t been sorted out yet. He and Aomine had barely had the time to spar against one another, which was incredibly disappointing, but...

Well, there was a life ahead for that.

So the day of the wedding had arrived, and he’d been woken up by one of the servants who’d been assigned to him when Momoi had realised that if left to his own devices, he would sleep away much of the morning and her planning time, and been hit with the realisation that _shit_.

 _Today’s the day_.

He shooed away the servants, telling them to leave until he absolutely had to go to some secret place for some pre-wedding thing Momoi had told him about – it had gotten all jumbled and lost in all the other wedding information – and lay in bed.

 _I’m getting married today_.

It had been easy to disassociate from the wedding planning, to pretend it was just like Hikaru’s wedding, that he was doing it for someone else, but today it was inevitable.

 _Today I’m going to marry Aomine Daiki_.

He wasn’t worried about the wedding.

If there was one thing Ryouta could say for sure, it was that. The wedding itself was a performance, just another of what was likely to be the rest of a lifetime’s worth. Maybe less when Aomine took a second bride and he could fob some of the duties off on her. No, Ryouta was not _too_ worried about the wedding. He knew the faces to make, the words to say – he’d seen it all up close at Hikaru’s wedding, and was fairly certain he’d be able to pull off the look that she had worn that day, smiling, shining, looking at her husband as if he was the only thing in her world. He knew how to woo the guests, knew who they were and what they looked like and what they did, not because he remembered from his welcome feast, but because Momoi had been teaching him about them when they hadn’t been wedding planning. These were the kinds of things he’d grown up knowing about Kaijo’s nobility, and had never needed to study; it was terribly boring to have to learn about these people, but his pride would never be left intact if he didn’t.

Theoretically, considering that Kaijo and Touou shared a border, he should have known more about Touou. The barbarians had never been considered particularly worthwhile to know about, though – he’d known of Momoi’s marriage because she’d married a nobleman from Shuutoku, which was a respectable place to come from; and he’d known of Aomine because he was the one who was going to inherit Touou’s throne. So he’d never really paid much attention to them – his gaze had always been set higher.

Well, at what he’d thought was higher. Touou’s royal family really wasn’t so bad, and from what he’d seen so far, Touou wasn’t really as barbarous as most people made it out to be. Eating with hands wasn’t _so_ bad – they were always scrupulous about making sure your hands were clean before eating – the multiple marriages should hardly be the reason for looking down upon them – Rakuzan had a long history of Emperors having many concubines, after all – the marriage of men was hardly so difficult to accept once one realised that a second marriage with a woman could be the one to provide children and heirs. The inheritance thing wasn’t that odd; Rakuzan’s heir was chosen too, after all – so then the only thing Ryouta could think of that was so barbaric was perhaps that they could be a warlike people. He’d quickly discovered that most Touou women could use at least one weapon semi-skillfully – bows seemed to be the most acceptable for a woman to wield – and of course, Touou’s armies had never been something to cough at, although they paled somewhat in comparison to Rakuzan’s well trained and polished army.

A knock on the door from one of the servants jerked Ryouta back into the present. Right. Wedding day. Traditions. Lots of things to do and a time limit in which to get them done.

No time to dwell on the post-marriage traditions that were making him feel so anxious.

He took a deep breath, held it, and released it slowly before sitting up and shoving the blankets off. For better or worse, this was what he had agreed to. This is what was expected of him. Girls did this all the time, and he was not going to get his head caught up in the things that Momoi had explained to him gently a few days ago when he’d gotten up the courage to ask.

 _I will not show fear_.

He opened the door and smiled down at the servant standing there. “It’s time to go, right?”

Usually, as a man, this place he was going to would be out of bounds, even though normally no one would be there. The cleansing and purifying bath for a bride was within the stone facade a little distance away from the main house of the castle. Of course, Ryouta didn’t believe that the bath would make him more pure for Aomine (and he was probably pure in the only way that would matter _anyway_ ); but he would want to be clean for the wedding anyway. The bath-house was dimly lit, and fragrant oil burners and candles left it smelling of fruits and flowers.

Left alone to his thoughts as he soaked in the warm, flower-filled bath, Ryouta’s mind inevitably strayed towards the wedding night.

Such a thing was often spoken of and joked about among Kaijo’s higher society. The fact that Ryouta had been unmarried at his age had been somewhat of an oddity, though the particular political requirements for his bride had been understood as the reason behind it. He remembered some of the raunchier jokes his friends had made upon the occasions that they had gotten married; it didn’t help his already burdened mind.

The bath was probably meant to help him relax, but he couldn’t stop thinking about tonight, making his stomach twist in knots. It would hurt, Momoi had said – she hadn’t seemed affected at all by the topic of their discussion, but Ryouta had found it almost painfully embarrassing, to have to hear her tell him what her brother was going to do to him.

Ryouta sighed and sank deeper into the water, blowing on some of the flowers that were floating nearby. It was annoying that he kept dwelling on something he could do nothing about, that he couldn’t change, that would happen whether he worried about it or not. Wedding nights were essentially the same everywhere, after all.

He ducked his head under the water and scrubbed at his hair. Aomine seemed to be a very good man. And it was for Kaijo. And it only had to be once, for the consummation to be complete, right?

That thought didn’t make him feel any better as he resurfaced.

 

* * *

 

 

After Aomine visited him at the bath house, Ryouta soaked for another half an hour or so before the servants – _handmaidens_ really – came to fetch him. He took one final deep breath in the relaxing warmth of the bath before leaving and covering himself up.

He was brought to another room in the building, where Momoi was waiting for him, curled up in a chair, and his wedding gown hanging in the corner. It was a beautiful outfit, as the design had suggested it would be – deep, rich blue and bright gold.

“Since none of your sisters could come,” Momoi said, smiling a little - though it was almost... sad? – “I thought that I would come and help you get ready.”

Honestly, Hikaru probably could have come. But of all people, Ryouta hadn’t wanted Hikaru to be there. She would have been able to pick his fear through his mask as if the facade he was putting together didn’t exist at all, and if she didn’t cause a scene to attempt to prevent the marriage, she would definitely be wracked by guilt. So instead, Ryouta had said in his last letter to Rika and Hikaru that rather than take time from their busy schedules, that it would be better for them to stay home.

Probably, their presences would have made him more at ease. More likely, he thought to himself, he would have given into the desire to back out of the marriage, like the spoiled child he usually was.

Though, even as he thought that, he also thought of how shameful that would be; how much disgrace that would bring upon their kingdom and family. No, he would never back out from the marriage now that it was known he had agreed to it.

“Thank you, Momocchi,” he said, and smiled as best he could.

She hopped up. “I’ll be just outside, so just tell me when you’re decent, alright?”

Ryouta nodded, and she let herself out. He dried off slowly before he turned to the clothes.

He pulled the pieces on, one by one – they sat perfectly, which was to be expected when they were made for him – and knocked at the door for Momoi to come back in. She fussed with them a little, and he smiled at her. There was no more time for second thoughts or fear. Or at least, there was no more time left for them to be left unguarded.

“Oh, you look so beautiful, Ki-chan!” she said, and beamed. “Are you nervous?”

Well, it would be expected for him to be a _little_ nervous. “A little,” he answered, laughing a little. “I’m sure it’ll pass! All brides get nervous, right? Even Hikaru had wedding jitters.”

Momoi laughed. “That’s true,” she agreed. “Let me help you with your makeup and veil?”

Ryouta looked around, and sure enough, his kit was there. “Oh, you had it brought here?”

She shrugged as Ryouta sat down at the mirror. “Well, all your things are being moved into the rooms you’ll be sharing with Dai-chan, it was simple enough to have it brought over.”

Ryouta nodded, though he felt nervousness coil tight in his stomach. No, he was not going to freak out about the way that the words _shared quarters_ were suddenly feeling much larger and more intimidating than it had before. He was going to smile and nod and sit still while Momoi brushed his makeup on and fixed the veil to his hair with the beautiful blue jewel flower pins that Aomine had used at the welcome feast. And he was going to breathe around the weight that had settled heavy in his chest.

It seemed no time at all had passed when Momoi stepped back and smiled at him.

“I’m going to go check on Dai-chan now,” she told him. “Your guard is going to be taking you to the gardens in the carriage.” She moved to the door, and paused. “You really do look beautiful, Ki-chan.”

“Thank you,” he answered, and she left, the sounds of her feet brisk and purposeful on the stone floor even as they faded away.

He took a moment before he looked in the mirror. Yes, he looked striking; he probably couldn’t have done a better job himself.

 _I’m not ready_ , he thought, _but I’m going to do it anyway, because it’s what I was born to do_.

He stood then, and as calmly as he could, he left the room. The bath house still smelled of the flowers and the oils that had been burned; he already knew that he smelled of them, and that the scent would cling to his clothes.

At the door, Kasamatsu was waiting for him. Ryouta smiled at him, though he knew that his nerves must be obvious to his guardian. After all, Kasamatsu had known him, and been the head of his guard, for a number of years.

“Your sisters would have liked to see you,” Kasamatsu said. Ryouta swallowed around the lump in his throat – he was not going to cry and ruin Momoi’s hard work.

His guard closed around him, then, moving as a unit closer than they ever had before - but they had been Ryouta’s companions for years, so Ryouta appreciated the quiet comfort that they were all feeling the weight of this event. Even though he would always be Kaijo’s prince in blood, tonight he was going to become a prince of Touou, and his guard were to be relieved of their posts. Most would return to Kaijo in a few days; would go back to their homes and families and new assignments. Kasamatsu was probably going to be elevated to Rika’s guard, which was really were he’d always belonged anyway.

“It was our honour to serve as your guard, Ryouta,” Kasamatsu told him as they stood in front of the carriage Ryouta would be escorted to the gardens in.

And Ryouta couldn’t deny that the words were sincere – for all that Kasamatsu was exasperated by him and his antics, for all that he would scold him and tell anyone and everyone that _Prince Kise is a spoiled brat_ , Kasamatsu had always taken the job of looking after him seriously, and even when Ryouta knew that Kasamatsu likened being the captain of his guard to being the head nanny in a nursery, Ryouta also knew that he really had considered it an honour to be chosen to lead his guard.

“Kasamatsu-san...”

Kasamatsu ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “You’ll be okay. Come on, get in, and don’t cry.”

Ryouta laughed; taking care of him until the end, it seemed.

“Thank you,” he said, and pretended for both their sakes that he didn’t notice Kasamatsu go pink in the face as he climbed as gracefully as he possibly could into the carriage.

As the carriage travelled painfully slowly to its destination, Ryouta tried to calm the writhing in his stomach. _Game face time, Ryouta. Worry about after the wedding_ after _the wedding_.

And then, finally, the carriage stopped. He experienced a moment of blind panic – _I’m not ready for the rest of my life to be like this_ – and forced it all away. Remembered Hikaru’s wedding, remembered her excitement and nerves as she prepared, and the way she had smiled, like there was nowhere she would rather be, and no one else she’d rather be with.

Ryouta could make that face. He would make that face if it killed him.

One last big, deep breath, since he wouldn’t have another chance for one, with all eyes trained on him, and he let himself relax. He could do this. This was the bit he could do. This was the easy part.

Time to put on a show.

The door opened, and Kasamatsu’s hand was there to help him get out without incident. Not that he was worried, but it was nice. There were so many people, but he smiled, and he knew that none of these people would be able to tell what was really going on.

It was reassuring, the powerful feeling of being in control of what these people believed purely because of how he presented himself. All these people would go away from the wedding and believe and say that he’d looked so happy, that he’d made a perfect bride, that he had been a vision and a wonder and whatever else they said of happy, beautiful brides.

And then he caught sight of Aomine.

To be fair, he was usually very difficult to miss in the first place, with his height and his build and his hair. But today he was dressed in complimentary colours to Ryouta’s own outfit, which was more than likely Momoi’s handiwork, and Ryouta had to admit he cut a very dashing figure, if you were into that sort of thing. Part of him felt reassured by seeing him – a familiar face among a sea of strangers.

He walked slowly and deliberately through the crowd, his eyes trained on Aomine, and his head full of the way he’d seen women before him walk. There was no room for anything other than the images he had absorbed and that he was projecting, though he could still feel the thrum of anxiety in his stomach. He just had to make it to where Aomine was waiting for him, a branch in the storm, and not think about anything other than his task of acting out the happy partner at a wedding.

Aomine was smiling when he reached him, and the expression softened his face, and almost took Ryouta by surprise.

Momoi’s words flickered through his mind again - _“I was surprised when he finally agreed to get married. I guess I thought maybe Dai-chan was holding out hope that he’d meet that someone special.”_ – and he faltered for a split second; but he had himself together again the next moment, Hikaru’s beaming face fixed firmly in his mind, the source for his expression, and the strength to continue on.

Aomine offered him an arm, and he curled his hand around it. It was oddly settling to have something to hold onto, so long as he didn’t think too much about it all.

And then the ceremony started.

Ryouta never did remember much of the wedding ceremony. They’d done a mock run of it the other day, to get him acquainted with how it would go; he poured his concentration into the expression he had to maintain.

There were only three things that Ryouta ended up remembering about the actual ceremony for his wedding to Aomine Daiki:

The warmth of Aomine’s hands; the way Aomine had tried to warm them and held them tighter when he noticed Ryouta was shaking; and the kiss.

In all honesty, Ryouta had forgotten that there would be a kiss until people started calling for one. It brought back all the anxiety he’d been stewing on, the expectations of _being a bride_ , and unintentionally, his grip on Aomine’s hands tightened.

Aomine looked calm as he worked one of his hands free from Ryouta’s grip, and locked him down with the lightest touch, the same way he’d done on the day they met.

“...Close your eyes.”

It was an easy enough request to follow; it was something he already wanted to do anyway, to block out everything going on around him. There was a long moment, in which the only thing that seemed to exist was the touch of Aomine’s fingers on his face, before he was kissed.

It was gentle and warm, and Aomine’s lips were surprisingly soft against his. It was a simple kiss, and it didn’t last too long – just enough time that the crowd gathered had started to cheer.

As Aomine drew away Ryouta opened his eyes, and looked at him, disoriented by the surprising sweetness of the kiss they’d just shared.

He could feel heat sneaking into his face, and he desperately searched his brain for what he was supposed to do next. All he could remember was how Hikaru had thrown herself so happily into the arms of her beloved, and he wondered when this would start to feel real. At least he remembered to smile as he looked at Aomine, and then they were being ushered towards the open sided tents where a feast was laid out on tables, so their guests could enjoy their beautiful surroundings. Today, they would sit together at the head of the table while eating as it was the celebration of their wedding, though the majority of their time would be spent cycling through their guests, thanking them for their gifts and blessings. Many of these people Ryouta had met at his welcoming feast, though some of them he had not. Either way, he had a very big afternoon ahead of him.

He found himself mimicking his sister as they cycled through their guests. Aomine was never far away from him as Ryouta navigated his way through all the social niceties that were required of them. There was an arm curled loosely around his waist, which would be easy enough to escape if he wanted to, but Ryouta found it fortifying, rather than discomforting, a little bit of strength and an aid to the image he was building of the two of them in the minds of their guests.

He was glad to sit down at the table when the feast began. His feet had begun to ache, and there were still a large number of guests he had yet to speak to, but he was starting to feel worn down from all the repetition he was doing, and the way he had to maintain his appearance. But for all that he knew he should eat, since his wedding preparations had carried through lunch time, he couldn’t bring himself to eat a single thing. Without the distraction of nobles to charm and impress, his mind returned to thinking about the consummation again, and his anxiety twisted his stomach into knots that made him feel nauseous. He chatted with whoever he could to distract himself from the way his insides were rolling around.

And then they were back out again, circling about the gardens to find all the people they’d yet to speak to and thank. As the day wore on and the ache his feet began to worsen, he found himself leaning against Aomine a little in an attempt to alleviate the pain.

He knew they were coming very close to having thanked all the guests that mattered, and willed time to move just a little bit slower. He was glad that he hadn’t eaten anything – as it was he already felt like he was going to throw up.

But their guests seemed to know too. The lateness of the hour meant that the celebration would continue for noble guests up at the palace, but no one expected to see Ryouta or Aomine for the rest of the evening.

Ryouta didn’t know how Aomine had gotten to the gardens, but he knew how they were returning – in the carriage that had brought him down. He tried not to go red or be sick as their guests started making jokes and comments about the rest of their evening as they left, but he only succeeded in one – he could feel the blood rushing up to his face. All these people knew exactly what was going to happen to him tonight, and that made it even _worse_.

Aomine helped him up into the carriage, not that he really needed the help up the steps, and Ryouta settled into the corner, and bounced his knee as Aomine joined him, sitting on the other side. They were quiet as they set off, because usually it would be Ryouta breaking the silence that settled between them, but tonight he couldn’t bring himself to do so.

It had been a beautiful day, he mused as he looked out the window. The evening was going to be beautiful too. And yet he hadn’t really enjoyed it at all, wouldn’t have the chance to enjoy it. He looked at Aomine from under his eyelashes; his husband ( _his husband_ ) had his head tilted back against the carriage and his eyes closed.

He looked back out the small window and tried to ignore the heaviness on his chest, and the unfamiliar weight of the ring on his finger.

When they arrived back at the palace, Ryouta had to pause for a moment, as he realised he didn’t know how to get to their new shared rooms from here. He looked at Aomine, who raised an eyebrow at him before he began walking. He followed a few steps behind, desperately willing down the fear settled in his bones making him shake.

Their new rooms were on the ground floor, he could remember that much as they walked through the quiet corridors. It was just that he’d only been to their new quarters once before, and they were in part of the residential wing, where before he’d been staying in the rooms for high-ranking guests. But he knew when they’d reached their corridor because Aomine sighed loudly and started loosening his clothes.

“Thank the gods that’s over,” he said, though he continued to walk as if he _wasn’t_ practically pulling his clothes off. Ryouta continued to walk slowly behind him, letting some distance extend between them until Aomine turned into their new rooms as familiarly as if he’d been living in them for years.

Ryouta paused outside the door to their room, which Aomine had left open. The rooms were much, much bigger than the one he’d been staying in before, though that wasn’t surprising. He heard the sound of clothes hitting the floor, and wondered how he could have misread things, because Aomine hadn’t seemed that eager _before_.

He stepped inside, and closed the door quietly. Aomine still had his pants on, but nothing else, and Ryouta moved into the little washing up room to the side to start removing the makeup.

He could hear Aomine moving around in the main area of their quarters, and heard him make a pleased noise as Ryouta scrubbed his face clean in front of a mirror. He was shaking again, and the thought felt almost like an out-of-body observation as he looked at his hands.

When he was done, he walked out, feeling a little light headed. Aomine was sprawled on the couch with a plate of food on his stomach.

Well, that explained the happy noise, at least.

“I...” Ryouta’s voice came out squeaky, and he cleared his throat. “I’m going to get changed...”

Aomine hummed and bit into another piece of food. Ryouta took that as his opportunity to flee into the room their clothes were in.

 _I can’t do this_.

He let his back hit the door and slid down so his knees pressed up against his chest. True, the kiss at the wedding hadn’t been... so bad... kind of nice, if he thought about it... but this was _completely different_. Ryouta curled his arms around his legs. He had to... he’d been thinking about it whenever he couldn’t distract himself, thinking about the things he was supposed to let Aomine do to him. The thoughts and images his mind generated had been terrifying, and not helped at all by the information that he’d gotten, and the knowledge that it was going to hurt. And now it was unavoidable. He’d said the vows, and tied himself to Aomine for the rest of their lives.

Even though when he was in the bath that morning, he’d told himself he could do it, he could get through it once, that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, he felt sick with nerves.

He leaned his head back against the door. He was not going to cry on his wedding night. He wanted spare himself that one humiliation, at least. But if he stayed here any longer, he wouldn't be able to help it, so slowly, he pushed himself up from his crouching position to stand. He took deep breaths as he rocked on his feet and pulled off his wedding outfit. Perhaps his sleeping clothes weren’t the most exciting things, but they _were_ comfortable.

He knew he’d been a while in there, but since Aomine hadn’t knocked on the door, it couldn’t have been a worrying amount of time.

There was also still food on the plate when he came out, so _clearly_ he hadn’t been as long as he thought.

Aomine didn’t say anything as he walked into their wardrobe to change, and somehow the silence felt like it was physically pressing on Ryouta from all sides. Aomine was out a moment later still only wearing pants, although the ones he was wearing now looked more comfortable than the ones from his wedding outfit.

Contrary to his expectations, Aomine did not move to eat the rest of the food on the plate. Instead, he collapsed onto the bed face-first and sighed loudly.

Ryouta felt like he was rooted to the spot he was standing at near the door to their wardrobe. He stared helplessly at Aomine, who seemed perfectly at ease. And why shouldn’t he be? He wasn’t the one whose body was going to be invaded.

Aomine pushed himself up to crawl to rest his head on one of the pillows, and looked at him. Ryouta stared back.

“You going to stand there all night?”

Ryouta shook his head and somehow his legs found it in them to move to the bed. Aomine frowned.

“You should eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

He heard Aomine sigh, and he sat down on the bed. He felt it shift beneath him, and he turned to look at Aomine. All he could see was his back.

“Aominecchi?” his voice sounded small and pathetic. Aomine turned his head to look at him over his shoulder. “What’s... you’re...”

"I'm what?"

Was he going to make him say it? Complete his humiliation by making him ask after something he didn't want? Aomine had made no secret that he got enjoyment from teasing him, but he'd never been _cruel_ before. Perhaps they hadn't known each other that long, but Ryouta knew his behaviour was off tonight, enough so that even Aomine should have noticed.

"You're not going to..."

Ryouta couldn't even get the rest of the sentence out of his mouth. He could feel the mortification of the words lodged in his throat burning in his face even though they had been left unsaid.

“I won't touch you if you don’t want me to.”

If he’d been standing, Ryouta was pretty sure his legs would have given out under him.

“You’re... not?”

Aomine locked gazes with him. "Do you want to have sex with me?"

He could feel his heartbeat pick up again, and fear settle back into his stomach, like a familiar and unwelcome friend.

No, he didn't want it. Ryouta looked down at the floor, feeling ashamed of himself even as he shook his head.

He heard Aomine shift again, and when he peeked over, he saw that Aomine had turned away again. "Then I'm not going to touch you."

“But... won’t that be a problem?” Even though relief was flooding through him, making him feel almost dizzy, he had to keep asking these stupid questions. There was a long pause, but then Aomine grunted, clearly annoyed.

“I’ll deal with it. So eat something. That’s what’s got you all worked up, right?”

He was not going to cry, damn it. He _wasn’t_. But Ryouta was pretty sure if he opened his mouth he was going to sob, the way that relief was crashing through him, so instead he made an affirming noise that came out only a little bit squeaky, and got up to reach for the food.

Suddenly, he was starving.

 

* * *

 

 

(One day, Ryouta would look back on that night and he’d be able to say “That was the moment I started falling in love with Aomine Daiki”;

But he wasn’t quite there yet.)

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back! I hope that you're not too disappointed by the lack of uh. Things. :D 
> 
> SORRY THIS WAS ALWAYS HOW IT WAS GOING TO GO.
> 
> ~~it'll happen eventually...~~
> 
> Thank you for sticking with us. :)


	10. Chapter 10

Daiki’s wedding night turned out like this:

After Daiki made it clear that nothing was going to happen, Ryouta started stuffing his face with so much food so fast, Daiki had to remind him to slow down and chew. It took Daiki threatening to come forward and feed him himself for the point to really get across that Ryouta should stop eating so fast or he’ll choke. Daiki watched him closely anyway despite his compliance, eyeing him grumpily because he was very, very tired and it was annoying how Ryouta looked so happy sitting there at the edge of their bed with a plateful of food. Because he was an adult with very adult sensibilities, he tried to steal some bits and pieces for himself and that started a bit of a squabble.

“Aominecchi already ate so much! This is mine!” Ryouta insisted, protecting his food viciously even as he continued to eat with the greed of the very, very hungry. His bride looked so determined with that mutinous expression, Aomine had to leave him alone. Besides, the idiot probably deserved the food anyway after all that he had been through today.

After getting his fill, Ryouta finally put the plate aside and was content, rubbing his belly and humming happily.

“Full.” He cooed and Daiki watched as he practically started to sway with sleepiness. “Time for bed!” And Ryouta flopped down on his back on the bed.

“Oi.” Daiki reached and nudged the lazy lump with a foot. “Don’t lie down and sleep yet. You’ll get nightmares.”

The Ryouta-shaped lump didn’t even bother to move even when Daiki’s foot made contact with his head. “But I’m tired.”

“You’ll get fat.”

“Rude, Aominecchi!”

Ryouta finally moved but it was to pout up at him like a big baby and Daiki had this huge urge to smother him with one of their large pillows. Instead, he reigned in the urge and suggested,

“Take a walk outside in the garden for a bit or something.”

“My feet hurt…”

Daiki sighed, closed his eyes and tried to beat back the headache that was starting to build between his eyebrows. Yes, he was quite aware that it was going to be like this from now on and he had no escape. It was still kind of painful to think about, though, especially when faced with a whiny Ryouta. He was silent until he was pretty sure he wouldn’t start pelting Ryouta with pillows as he really wanted to.

“Then at least get up here and lie back against the pillows or something…”

He watched Ryouta huff, still pouting petulantly, then start the arduous task of crawling up to the head of their bed. Daiki could imagine the task to be a challenge given that their bed could comfortably fit maybe five tall people and well, they’ve had a long day. When Ryouta got up to the pillows, he dropped down on them and curled up on his side, not minding at all that his head was placed higher than usual.

“Goodnight, Aominecchi.” Ryouta mumbled and it wasn’t long before he was out like a light.

Daiki watched him silently for a few minutes even as he stayed a good distance away. Ryouta was all bundled up in his sleeping clothes like that time he visited him in his room to apologize. He looked warm and comfortable and Daiki ignored the thought that it must be nice if he could maybe lie closer. The thought was stupid and wouldn’t really get him anywhere.

It was starting to get a bit cool then and when Daiki looked out the nearest window, he realized it had actually started to rain. It was just a drizzle but there was a bit of a breeze and he could feel a slight chill over his bare skin. He glanced to Ryouta again and sighed softly. He tried to be as quiet and careful as he could as he moved to pull up the blankets over his new bride. Ryouta may look at ease but it was better to be safe than sorry.

When Ryouta was covered up and tucked in, Daiki went back to his side of the bed and got under the covers too. He turned the light down and shifted to his side, closing his eyes with a quiet, tired sigh.

“Goodnight, Ryouta.”

And his wedding day finally ended.

 

* * *

 

When he woke up, he felt warm. It shouldn't be a surprise given how he had a blanket when he went to sleep but somehow it felt warmer. And he was very, very comfortable, so comfortable that he really didn't want to move. Daiki smiled even as he kept his eyes closed, snuggling in deeper into the bed and bringing the warmth he had beside him even closer.

Wait.

His eyebrows furrowed. _Warm..._ With difficulty, he opened one eye.

Somehow, it didn't surprise him to see Ryouta's face so close to his. They had fallen asleep side by side in the the days before the wedding after exhausting shopping trips, so he had woken up beside the other prince before. Still, Daiki knew this was different from that. For one, they were married and it was the morning after their wedding night. For another, they were never this close.

Ryouta had somehow rolled into him during the night and as if his body knew its mate was there, it welcomed him. Very closely in fact. His left arm was practically asleep, made immobile by Ryouta's weight over it, while the other one was around Ryouta's waist like it belonged there. It wasn't a bad position to be in, except for how his arm was trapped, but it could be much worse. In fact, this was actually nice, all warm and cozy, with Ryouta so close. He still kind of smelled like those flowers and oils he had bathed in yesterday.

And obviously the view was good. Ryouta was beautiful even in sleep and up close like this provided him with a sight that was exclusively his.

Yes, he could get used to waking up to this every morning.

Ryouta looked so peaceful in his sleep that Daiki figured he'd just have to wait until he woke up. It just didn't seem right to disturb him even if he himself was awake now. Besides, it wasn't as if they were expected to show their faces until much later. However, Ryouta probably felt him watching him even in his sleep because it didn't take long before he started waking up.

Daiki just continued to watch Ryouta, taking in how those eyelashes fluttered before he opened his eyes. It was through this early morning observation that Daiki discovered that after a good night's sleep, Ryouta woke up with a smile. It was just a small smile, a tiny quirk of his lips, but he looked so very content that Daiki just had to stare so he could sear the sight into his memory. Then Ryouta looked at him and Daiki swore it was no illusion that he looked even happier at the sight of him then.

"...Aominecchi?" That stupid nickname had never sounded so soft or so sweet.

"Hello..." He found himself saying back, so mesmerized by watching Ryouta wake up beside him that he could hardly say anything else.

Ryouta just continued to smile, to look at him so warmly like he was so, so content. "Why are you so--"

Then Ryouta paused and reality came crashing down on them.

Daiki saw it when Ryouta’s mind actually caught on, when those eyes widened and the smile was chased away by stunning realization, incredulous embarrassment and all out panic. Ryouta moved so fast Daiki hardly felt him push away. Well, that was probably his currently dead arm but still. Their bed was huge and somehow, in the blink of an eye, Ryouta had gotten to the other side. He pushed back so fast he almost fell off the edge and Daiki would have found it funny if he wasn't the one Ryouta was trying to get away from.

But Ryouta really did look alarmed, eyeing him as if he'd pounce and hold him down while he practically hid under the blanket. He was tense and confused, like a frightened animal, and were Daiki more sensitive, he would be insulted by that reaction. Instead, he pushed away whatever sense of loss there was and the other useless emotions that came with it as he very calmly and carefully sat up.

Ryouta was still watching him, but he seemed to slowly calm down when Daiki didn't make a move to get even an inch closer. Daiki continued to be silent until it probably started getting too awkward for the other prince.

"Aominecchi, you--"

Whatever it was Ryouta was going to say, Daiki wasn't in the mood to listen. He just felt like leaving and being alone so he started getting up, making sure that it really looked like he was just staying on his side of the bed.

"I'm going to take a bath. I'll have some breakfast sent up."

Ryouta looked like he wanted to say something more but in the end, he just nodded, still looking at him with those wide eyes, "Thank you." He still hadn't moved from under the blanket.

Daiki reached for his own dressing robe that he had dropped on a chair near the bed. "Try not to move around too much until breakfast is here. They expect you not to want to really get out of bed right now..."

He shrugged the robe on and  tried not to watch too closely when he saw a blush start spreading on Ryouta's cheeks to his ears. Despite that, Ryouta nodded,

"All right..."

Daiki nodded back to him and saw himself out.

 

* * *

 

It was in the baths that Daiki figured he should just stay away for a while. It made sense to him. Ryouta was still wary of him and it would be better for both of them if Daiki just made himself scarce. That course of action probably defeated the purpose if Ryouta were a woman but then again, Daiki had a feeling things wouldn’t be like this if Ryouta were the proper gender for his bride.

But he wasn’t and they were married. Something had to be done for Ryouta to maybe get used to things more. Daiki looming around would probably just make things harder. And besides, Daiki didn’t really feel like dealing with the awkwardness right then. Things were bad enough as they were.

And so it was decided. Daiki was going to give Ryouta the space he needed after breakfast today.

(He probably needed his space too. It would take a while before he could forget how Ryouta looked at him from the other side of that bed. He actually didn’t think he could but maybe some distance would soften the blow. This would be good for him too.)

 

* * *

 

The next few days were spent much like nothing had changed. They passed a lot like how they were before Ryouta arrived. Daiki spent a lot of time with his men, trying to mend the ways they had fallen soft and lax while they were left unsupervised during the preparations for his marriage. Daiki had always been a strict taskmaster and demanded the best from his men. There wasn’t a lot that needed to be fixed but there was always room for improvement.

He still made appearances with Ryouta when he had to, mostly at meals and when the family had to gather between one thing or another, but once he could, he would leave. He accompanied Ryouta dutifully and still came back to their rooms to sleep but he didn’t stay long in the mornings or come by after their midday meal for some rest. They hardly spoke but that was probably for the best. Daiki didn’t know what to say; he’d never been good with talking anyway.

This continued on for a while but Daiki knew at the back of his mind that it wouldn’t last. He couldn’t avoid everything forever and he knew his time was up when Satsuki came for him.

Satsuki was small, a tiny delicate thing so seemingly easy to break, but the moment she came down among his formidable men of arms, the unstoppable royal army of Touou, it was as if they were reduced to nothing. They parted for her and everything ceased. She didn’t have to ask where he was; they led the way with how they cleared a path for her. Daiki would have been annoyed if he didn’t know his sister was a force of nature so great, it was just right that his army bowed and retreated before her.

When they were finally face to face, Satsuki barely greeted him and Daiki wasn’t surprised.

“Aomine,” was all she said, addressing him formally in front of his men because she meant business. She didn’t bow because they were equals and he led her away somewhere more private so she could do what she came for. He wasn’t going to run for it was futile and he was old enough to know that he should just man up and take whatever Satsuki was going to say. He had an idea of what it was because given how close she and Ryouta had become during the preparations for the marriage, she had adopted Ryouta as her brother too and she was going to set things right for him in any way she could.

However, despite growing up together, Satsuki could still sometimes surprise him and today was one of those times.

“When are you going to tell Ki-chan that you have feelings for him?” She asked, looking at him while he didn’t look at her. They had found their way up to the palace roof, the parapets more formidable and ominous in broad daylight than they were at night. It was cold and windy and Daiki slightly feared the thought of Satsuki being blown away so he kept her within grabbing range. It was also something to occupy himself with as he worked through the surprise of what Satsuki said and wondered what he should say in answer.

“Dai-chan,” she prompted him, firmly but gently, but it still annoyed him somewhat.

“What for?” he demanded even as he felt cold and hot at the same time at Satsuki being infuriatingly sharp as always. Of course she knew and she knew even before he had them figured out but then he had always been messy and clumsy when it came to anything related to feelings. That wasn’t the surprise nor was it how Satsuki just asked him what he would do but that Satsuki was even asking him. He was convinced she’d come to just yell at him for leaving Ryouta alone.

“It would explain what you’re doing right now for a start,” she said and Daiki felt a pang of shame. “I know you, Dai-chan, and you probably think you’re doing the right thing by avoiding him and how you feel but it’d just make things worse.”

He grit his teeth because she had a point but then she always did. It didn’t make things any easier to swallow or talk about, though. The wind whistled in his ears but he knew whatever he would say would still be clearly heard by Satsuki. “If I say something…” he paused then tried again. “We’re married, Satsuki. I’d have to see him everyday…” he trailed off, unable to continue, and he trusted that Satsuki knew what he was trying to say. She had to.

She sighed though Daiki saw it more than heard it as he finally looked at her. Ever since their conversation started, she hadn’t looked away from him and right now, she looked calm but resolved.

“That’s right and you can try showing him everyday until he understands.”

_Show him everyday._

_Be by his side until he understands._

_Until he knows and couldn’t deny it._

“Nothing happened.”

Satsuki looked at him curiously. “Nothing happened?”

“Our wedding night.” It should be a secret but Daiki knew he could trust Satsuki with the knowledge. “Nothing happened.”

“Oh.” She didn’t seem too surprised but she wasn’t too nonchalant about it either. She looked at him consideringly. “You didn’t...?” They were brother and sister and they shared a lot of things but some things were still awkward to talk about and that included what they did in the privacy of their rooms with the people they were married to.

He gave her a bit of an annoyed, unimpressed look that made her smile a little, sheepish. “I wasn’t going to force him into something he didn’t want.”

There was silence between them then and Daiki let out a bit of a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. It felt like a bit of weight had been lifted from his chest now that Satsuki knew but there was still some left behind. Admitting that nothing happened during the night when they were supposed to consummate their marriage did not solve any of his problems. In fact they only made them clearer.

“...What if nothing works?”

The look of embarrassment and panic on Ryouta’s place was too clear in his head. It was hard to be optimistic about Satsuki’s advice when he already knew what it felt like to be rejected not once but twice by the very person he was bound to for life.

Satsuki could only smile. It wasn’t a particularly happy one but there was steel in her eyes. It didn’t give him much strength or confidence but it was familiar. At least he still had Satsuki on his side.

“You’ll never know if you don’t try.”

No, he won’t. That he could agree with at least.

Silence fell between them again for a while as he pondered how to go about this. It wasn’t as if he ever actually had to...woo someone before. The very thought was already making him squirm with what felt like an odd, uncomfortable mix of embarrassment and disgust. This was going to be hard and really, really embarrassing, he could already tell.

“If it helps any, for a start, Ki-chan really liked the sapphires you got him.”

Daiki frowned at Satsuki who just smiled impishly up at him, obviously enjoying his misery after that bit of being supportive. Now she was back to being his tormentor and wasn’t that just neat?

Buy Ryouta things.

Well, he was the Crown Prince of a very rich and prosperous kingdom. He could get more jewelry and whatever else Ryouta would want easily. He could do that. That was doable.

“We’ll get him more sapphires then.”

Going to the city with Satsuki to buy things was going to be Hell; he hoped the suffering would all be worth it in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was hard to write, between getting distracted by other things and the tragedy of Aomine angst (during and after his birthday too!), but I survived! And it's great to be back. :D


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for taking so long; was writer's blocked for _ages_ and then... this was really hard to write ahaha... not enough Aomine... ;~;
> 
> This chapter is enormous so I... hope that kind of makes up for how long it took me... ahaha...

If Ryouta had been worried that perhaps Aomine would change his mind, his fears were quickly put to rest as, over the next few days, he barely saw his new husband at all.

That first morning had been awkward and embarrassing – realising after Aomine had left that it was him who’d moved in the night was mortifying in the extreme, and it’d only gotten worse as the servant who brought up food was very... _sympathetic_.

Ryouta didn’t leave their quarters that first day; instead he spent most of it out in the small garden that adjoined their rooms when he wasn’t writing letters for Rika and Hikaru. The weather was a nice enough, and being in the garden was soothing. He didn’t really want to be around people today, even though he usually enjoyed having people around more than he enjoyed being alone.

The second morning was both easier and harder, because Aomine was gone before he woke up.

Today, Ryouta felt was the last in which he could hide. It was time for him to be up and about, to spend the last remaining days that his guard were spending here with them. It wasn’t too late into the morning, he discovered when he looked outside. He’d go and spar with them, and they’d all make comments about how it was so unfair that he never practiced but still beat them all handily, and it’d... feel like home, for just a little longer.

He dressed quickly, trying not to think about how gritty he felt after not having bathed yesterday, and spent a good while trying to figure out where his sword had been put in the move. Perhaps he should have sorted out his things yesterday, but he hadn’t felt like it.

Finally, he was ready to go.

He wasn’t really sure where his guard were being housed, or where they practiced; but he didn’t need to. He’d spent more than enough time in Momoi’s company as they’d made preparations for the wedding to know where she liked to spend her down time, and she’d said that she intended to spend a few days relaxing before she got back into the swing of running things around the castle again.

He knocked on the door to her favourite morning sitting room - the sun came in through the windows here, and she liked to curl up with a book in the warmth – and entered when she answered for him to come in.

“Ki-chan,” she greeted him, smiling. “It’s good to see you. How’re you holding up?”

Ryouta felt himself blushing, and tried to come off unaffected. “Ah, I’m alright,” he answered. “Momocchi, can you tell me where my guard would be around this time?”

She nodded. “I’m glad. And they’ll be in one of the smaller training yards. Would you like directions, or do you need someone to show you the way?”

Ryouta thought about it for a moment. “...I might need someone to show me,” he admitted, smiling a little sheepishly.

Momoi closed her book and giggled. “Alright, I’ll take you.” She put it down on the table, and then curled her arm around his. “You were missed at dinner last night,” she told him. “Dai-chan’s horde wanted to know where you were.”

“I wasn’t feeling up to socialising,” he said, and she nodded.

Their walk wasn’t a long one. She let go of his arm as they approached the yard, and Ryouta could hear the familiar sounds of blades against blades and Kasamatsu’s voice sounding over them, directing them and correcting mistakes.

“Thank you,” he said to Momoi, and bounced out into the yard.

It’d never been an anomaly for Ryouta to come and watch the guard as they trained, even though they could rarely convince him to join in their training; he’d never been allowed to actually wield any of the weapons they trained with, so the only thing he’d been allowed to join was boring strength and conditioning. The men in his guard looked up as he came out, and a few of them smiled, but for the most part they were unfazed by his appearance.

 Kasamatsu sighed as Ryouta came to stand next to him. “Good morning, Prince Kise.”

“Morning, Kasamatsu-san,” Ryouta greeted him. “Will you play with me today?”

He looked at him from the corner of his eyes. “Don’t you have a new husband to play with?”

Ryouta shrugged. “You guys are going... back soon,” he said, stumbling over the _home_ that he’d managed to leave unsaid. “So I want to spend some time with you before that.”

Kasamatsu seemed to know that there was something Ryouta wasn’t telling him – of course, it always had been difficult, nigh on impossible, for Ryouta to charm his way past him – but left it to instead bark at one of the men about his posture.

“Did you want to have a round with everyone?” Kasamatsu asked. “Or just with me?”

Ryouta shrugged. “Everyone’s fine,” he said. “I’ll be gentle.”

Kasamatsu had that look that Ryouta knew meant that he wanted to smack him, but he refrained. He was always so conscious of their stations. Or perhaps he was especially so this morning, now that Ryouta was no longer considered strictly Kaijo’s prince.

“Gather up!” he called across the yard instead. “Our whimsical prince has decided to commandeer us for his amusement this morning.”

There was a playful groaning from the guard as they all lowered their weapons and began to converge upon the two of them. Ryouta indulged in the warmth of being their prince for just this moment longer.

“You know the drill,” Kasamatsu reminded them. “If you don’t have your sword, run and get it.” About half of them had to go; it really had been a while since Ryouta stopped by, and he suddenly felt remorseful that he’d spent barely any time with them since arriving, even though it was to be expected.

He took a prepared stance as the remaining guys made a loose circle, and grinned at Kasamatsu.

“Eyes on your opponent, your Highness,” Kasamatsu growled, and it was so familiar Ryouta couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up in his chest.

“Ah, come on, Kasamatsu-san,” Ryouta wheedled, more because it was routine and easy and heart-achingly familiar, than because he didn’t care about doing the respectful and polite thing he was being told to do. He turned to face his opponent, and winked at him. “You know I hate it when you call me that.”

And if the captain of his guard looked like he wanted to throttle him, well. That was always fun too.

And so it went, of course; the rounds were never long, because Ryouta’s reflexes were faster than most of them, and he was built for battle even if he’d never been allowed to train for it. The last was always Kasamatsu, who was usually good for a little longer than the rest of them before he, too, found himself at the end of Ryouta’s sword.

Ryouta hadn’t really worked up much of a sweat, even though he’d gone through so many, but that wasn’t the point. He thought about sparring with Aomine, and wondered what he’d need to do to be able to beat him, too.

“Kasamatsu-san,” he asked as the rest of his guard sidled off to clean up and their captain began his solo drills, “do you think I’d be able to beat Aominecchi?”

It was to his credit that Kasamatsu didn’t pause as he moved. “If it’s you, Prince Kise,” he said, “I wouldn’t be surprised.” He took a moment to look at him. “But you won’t beat the Dark Panther in your current condition.”

Ryouta pulled a face.

“I don’t care how talented you are,” Kasamatsu continued, ruthlessly. “You’re in terrible physical condition. You have natural strength, speed and agility on top of some incredible reflexes, but Crown Prince Aomine has been training for battle for years, and of course you can assimilate the movements, but until you have a proper training regimen, you won’t have a chance in hell at beating him.”

He sighed. “I hate running,” Ryouta complained.

Kasamatsu started his drills over. “I know.”

“It’s _boring_.”

“You’ve said so before, your Highness.”

Ryouta sat on a bench at the edge of the yard and looked up at the sky.

“...do you think I’ll be happy here, Kasamatsu-san?” he asked quietly.

This question did make Kasamatsu pause; Ryouta caught it at the edge of his vision.

“I think you will,” he finally answered. “You have a lot more freedom here than at home, and I know you always chafed under the restrictions of your status at home. There’s a challenge to drive you here too; something to make you want to get out of bed before midday and push you to do something with yourself. Your pride won’t let you back down from your duties like you did at home, either.”

Ryouta smiled to himself. “I wish you could stay.”

“Who would want to stay with a bratty prince like you?” Kasamatsu asked, but there was no heat to the question as he started going through his drills again.

 

* * *

 

Ryouta spent that afternoon with Kasamatsu and his guard. He learned that they ate at one of the smaller mess halls at lunch time when he joined them, and he took the time to move around and listen to all their stories about what they’d been doing while they were here. A number of the stories involved women, but more of them told stories about how they had formed some good friendships with some of Touou’s soldiers that worked and lived in the palace.

The next morning, he’d woken to the decision that he’d ask Aomine to spar with him; Aomine had come back to their quarters late last night, and the only reason Ryouta knew he’d come back at all last night was because the shifting of the bed as he slid in had woken Ryouta briefly. But when he’d woken up, Aomine was gone again.

Well... maybe he’d try to convince Kasamatsu to go out with him into the city instead. After all, the guard was going to leave tomorrow morning, and clearly Aomine was either busy – which was unlikely, considering he hadn’t been busy at all during the time Ryouta had spent here so far – or Aomine didn’t want to see him. Ryouta stretched out the kinks in his back and sighed.

What was he going to do if this kept up? Was he going to fall asleep and wake up alone forever?

That... sounded lonely.

They’d been getting along so well as friends before they got married, Ryouta had hoped that they would be able to continue that way, that the awkwardness and discomfort would dissipate and they’d be like before.

Well... if worst came to worst, he was sure he could talk someone into sending him off to Rakuzan or back to Kaijo in some kind of diplomatic position. It would probably be unseemly for the Crown Prince’s bride to spend so much time away from his husband’s side, but...

He shoved the sheets and direction of his thoughts away and got up. He had one last day to spend with Kasamatsu before he went back to Kaijou with his letters and his requests for his more precious belongings to be sent over, as well as some paintings. He wasn’t going to send his friend away without spending a proper day with him.

He deliberated painfully over the clothes he would wear, because being outside meant being seen, and he was probably pretty recognisable as Aomine’s new bride. It wouldn’t do to look sloppy when people were bound to be curious about him.

He didn’t have enough clothes, he thought as he looked through his miserably limited wardrobe. He wondered if he got his own money, or if he just spent Aomine’s. He’d had his own money at home, but...

He didn’t really want to think about this. He should probably ask Momoi. Things for the wedding had all been paid for by funds set aside in Touou’s treasury for it; he never had asked his sister about bride prices. Rika, as queen, didn’t need a bride price because her husband would marry into their family and become her consort. Of course, they’d already funded Hikaru’s bride price, though her suitor had married into their family rather than her marrying into his, but Ryouta had never asked the exact number. Her husband had been a younger son, so Ryouta had always figured that it hadn’t required a lot of money to leverage him from his family.

But he, of course, had been expected to marry a girl, and bring in her dowry, not cost them money.

Maybe he should have asked a lot more questions before he’d left home. Actually, he definitely should have asked more questions. He wouldn’t have managed to have gotten himself into this if he’d actually asked questions, instead of assuming that things would go the way he expected them to.

He picked out an outfit that he thought would do, and headed to the baths. It was still kind of uncomfortable, being in here and knowing that any of the family could come in at any time, but since he rose so late, he often missed most of them, since they prepared for their days earlier. It was a small mercy, but one that he definitely appreciated.

Talking about money was going to be a necessary evil, if he wanted to go out; especially considering that it didn’t seem like Aomine was going to be around to pay for things for him. He’d go find Kasamatsu first, he decided as he soaked in the bath, and make sure that he wanted to spend the day with him, and that he wanted to go out and about. And if he did, then they’d go seek out Momoi so Ryouta could find out about that whole money thing.

The thing Ryouta decided he hated the most about the shared baths, as he got dressed, was that there weren’t really any mirrors around for him to check his appearance in. He’d have to go back to their quarters to check that everything was sitting right.

Maybe he should ask Aomine about whether there were any quarters which had baths attached to them?

...but that would require Aomine to be awake and in the same room as him while he was also awake.

Ryouta ran his fingers through his damp hair and pulled a face. Well, it had to happen eventually. He’d wake up before Aomine and catch him before he made his escape or something.

After a stop to check his clothes were sitting fine and that his hair was okay – how did the ladies deal with the lack of mirrors in the bath rooms? Maybe that was another thing to ask Momoi – he went in determined pursuit of the captain of his guard.

He’d gotten a decent enough idea of where Kasamatsu and the rest of the men of his guard spent their time yesterday; given how late into the morning it was and how they would all need to start preparing to leave tomorrow morning, they would probably all be done with training by now; Ryouta could probably catch Kasamatsu getting an early lunch.

“Kasamatsu-san,” he sang as he bounced into the mess hall. Most of the hall looked up, all Touou soldiers. His guard, to their credit, were very used to his appearances and didn’t look up, though Kasamatsu seemed to slump over his food.

“Your highness,” he greeted him in return.

“What have I told you about calling me that,” Ryouta whined, and dropped himself to sit next to Kasamatsu. “Anyway! Let’s go out into the city. It’s your last day here, right? I want to spend it with you.”

Kasamatsu sighed, but he seemed to have been expecting such a request. “Alright, your highness.”

Around the table, Ryouta could see his guards sharing grins in at the edges of his vision while he pouted ineffectually at Kasamatsu.

“I’ve told you so many times not to call me that,” Ryouta complained. “Anyway! We’ll need to go find Momocchi after. I need to ask her about whether or not I have any of my own money, or if I’m just freeloading off Aominecchi.”

“You’re very carefree, aren’t you, Prince Kise,” Kasamatsu commented dryly. “I can’t believe the topic didn’t come up _before_ you got married.”

Ryouta shrugged. “Hey, is that any good?” He reached over to take one of the things Kasamatsu was eating.

“If you’re hungry, go eat with your family.”

“I’m with my Kaijo family!” Ryouta protested, and grinned cheekily.

Kasamatsu’s long suffering look earned him some pats on the back from the rest of Ryouta’s guard, and Ryouta bit into the food.

When Kasamatsu finally stood up, Ryouta scrambled to his feet.

“Let’s go, let’s go!” he cheered.

“You’re acting like a child, your highness,” Kasamatsu said as they started off. “It’s unseemly.”

Ryouta smiled. “It’s fine. Aren’t you always telling everyone I’m spoiled anyway?”

“You could try harder not to prove me right.”

He shrugged. “It’ll be fine. So! Momocchi’s probably in her lounge room, so we’ll just pop by there quickly and then we’ll be off!”  
Kasamatsu frowned. “Wait... you mean Princess Momoi?”

“Of course. Who else would I mean?”

He paled. “I think. I’ll just meet you in the courtyard.”

As he made quick, long strides away, that was when Ryouta remembered that Kasamatsu often struggled interacting with women he wasn’t very familiar with, and laughed.

“Oh, that would have been fun, too,” he sighed to himself as he continued walking. “Maybe I can get Momocchi to give him a hug before he leaves tomorrow morning.”

When he knocked on her lounge room door, he became suddenly aware that this was the second time in as many days that he had interrupted her at leisure. Ryouta knew Momoi was incredibly sharp; she was probably going to know that there was something wrong by the way that he kept turning to her rather than seeking out Aomine, who Ryouta was quickly realising had been a close to constant companion through most of the time he’d already spent here.

“Oh, Ki-chan!” she said as he entered, looking surprised. “I thought you’d be with Kasamatsu-san today.”

“I have plans to go out into the city with him,” he admitted. “I just wanted to ask about money and stuff? Like if I have any of my own?”

“Probably,” she said, “but we’d have to talk to Shoichi, because he handles those kinds of things more than I do.”

Ryouta frowned and sighed. “Ah, I guess I’ll have to go find Imayoshi-san, then...”

“I’ll take you,” Momoi offered. “He can be difficult to deal with sometimes, and his office is hard to find if you don’t know where you’re going.”

“I don’t mean to interrupt your personal time,” Ryouta said. “I really only meant to make a quick stop by...”

Momoi smiled at him as she stood. “It’s all of our responsibility to look after you, as your siblings-in-law, Ki-chan. Besides, my other brothers all come and interrupt me all the time. But your consideration is very sweet.”

“If you say so...” Ryouta muttered. As Momoi moved purposefully past him, he trotted a little to fall into step with her. “Momocchi,” he said, trying to stop himself from grinning, “when Kasamatsu-san and the guard leave tomorrow, do you think you could give Kasamatsu-san a hug?”

Momoi raised an eyebrow at him, and then smiled. “Of course I can, Ki-chan.”

She must have caught something in his expression, because her smile seemed to have something of a wicked edge as they continued to walk.

“Will you miss them?” Momoi asked, suddenly.

Ryouta paused as he considered how to answer. “Yes,” he answered, deciding that it was best to be honest. “They’re something familiar in a place that’s still foreign even though it’s my home now. And I’ve been together with a lot of them for years.”

She nodded, and steered them around a corner.

“But I think it’ll be nice to get some freedom,” he added. “And I’m sure I’ll appreciate that freedom once I stop being sad that they’re gone.”

Momoi smiled. “I like that you’re so cheerful, Ki-chan,” she told him. “I think it’s good for Dai-chan, too. He can be very surly and negative, so I hope you can provide him with a little brightness.”

“Yeah...”

Momoi turned them down another corridor. “Shoichi’s office rooms are a little bit hidden,” she told him. “He likes them because people have to do a lot of winding to find them, and sometimes people get lost if they’re new.”

Ryouta snorted.

He tried to pay attention to where they were going after that though. The silence between them was more companionable than uncomfortable, and he didn’t really want to have to ask to be escorted here again on the off chance he needed to ask Imayoshi something.

Hopefully his body would remember, even if his mind couldn’t.

Imayoshi’s office was on a corridor that didn’t get much sunlight, since it wasn’t on an east or west-facing wall; as such, it wasn’t the best-lit corridor of the palace. Momoi knocked on one of the doors but didn’t wait for an invitation to come in, simply pushed it open.

“Satsuki,” Imayoshi greeted her. “What a pleasant surprise. I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I was just showing Ki-chan where he could find you,” she answered. Ryouta ducked in and smiled. Something about Imayoshi still made him nervous; maybe it was the way he could tell that he was always thinking and planning, but couldn’t make out what those thoughts and plans were, combined with the suspicion that the man was fully immune to his charms.

“Prince Ryouta,” Imayoshi looked at him. “You I have been expecting.”

Ryouta felt himself twitch, but smiled pleasantly instead of frowning. “Imayoshi-san,” he returned, nodding at him. “Ah, I was just wondering about whether I have any of my own allowance?”

Imayoshi hummed and shifted a few things around on his desk. “I think we’ve organised it. The treasury can be very slow, but I’m sure I saw something about that the other day.”

He flicked through some papers, and then smiled. “Here we go.” He offered it to Ryouta to look at.

Ryouta had looked over countless documents like the one in his hand; he knew where to find the information that was pertinent to his interests, and zeroed in on it.

“Was there a mistake?” he asked, passing it back. “That doesn’t look right.”

Imayoshi looked at it. “No, that’s right. It’s less than what your dear husband gets, but more than what our lovely Satsuki gets; after all, you’re the only bride of our charming crown prince, and royalty in your own right.” He paused. “Is it not enough?”

Ryouta pretty much choked at that. “It’s fine!” he said hastily. “That’s... _way_ more than I ever got... are you _sure_ that’s okay? I could buy like three of Akashicchi’s horses with that much and have some to _spare_.”

“I’d ask you _don’t_ go quite that crazy,” Imayoshi requested dryly. “But there you go. You should be able to access the money at the banks in town, though you may wish to go with Daiki or Satsuki.”

Ryouta nodded. “Thank you very much. You’re very generous.”

Imayoshi huffed. “Hardly.” He flapped a hand at them both. “Now be off, you two; I have things to do.” His mouth curled a little in the corner. “Unless, Satsuki, you wanted to come back to work now?”

“No thank you,” Momoi answered. “If there’s anything serious, you would have fetched me already, and anything that doesn’t need immediate attention can wait until I’ve finished relaxing.”

She curled an arm around Ryouta’s to steer him back out of Imayoshi’s office. “Now, I don’t want to intrude on your last day with Kasamatsu-san,” she said as she walked them back towards the residential wing, “but you’ll need someone from the family to be with you at the bank so they all know you. Has Dai-chan unpacked all his things yet?”

“No,” Ryouta said. “He hasn’t been around much.”

He watched as she frowned slightly. “Well,” she continued, “I know where he keeps his purse, so we’ll just take some money out of it for today. I do it all the time, so it won’t bother him.”

Ryouta smiled slightly. “You would know better than I would.”

Momoi made a humming noise. “Of course.”

When they arrived at Ryouta and Aomine’s rooms, Ryouta entered first and held the door for Momoi to enter after him. She smiled at him, though it was quickly replaced by a frown as she looked the room over.

“Dai-chan _really_ hasn’t been around much, has he?” Momoi murmured. She moved further into the rooms, and Ryouta sat on the bed as she poked around a little, searching.

“Found it,” she cheered. “Dai-chan really didn’t try very hard to hide it this time.”

She emerged from the closet smiling. “Now, if you get receipts for anything, just give them to me, okay? I go to all the briefing meetings about Dai-chan’s account, since he doesn’t really spend much and I probably use his money more than he does.”

She fished out some gold and silver coins. “This should be more than enough for anything you might get out and about in the markets. Oh! Wait, are you going to send home gifts for your sisters? Does blue suit them as well as it suits you? You should get them some nice earrings or hair accessories. Oh, I kind of wish I could go with you now...”

Ryouta laughed. “We’ll shop for their birthdays together instead, how about that? But I would like to send something home for them with Kasamatsu-san. Maybe just something small.”

Momoi hummed and counted it out. “This should probably be enough. Well, it’s what I would take for me if I was shopping for two sisters. Do you have a purse?”

He pulled it out for her, and she dropped the coins into it.

“Have fun today, Ki-chan,” she said. “I’ll see you at dinner, I’m sure!”

 

* * *

 

Much like the day before, Aomine showed up for dinner, disappeared, and came to bed late; well after Ryouta had initially fallen asleep. And again, when Ryouta woke up, he was gone.

He scowled and stomped a foot, frustrated; it wasn’t _very_ late into the morning, considering he’d organised to have a servant wake him an hour before the departure time of his guard.

Ryouta knew Aomine slept almost as much and as late as he did, so how the hell did he keep managing to get up before him?

In any case, he needed to bathe and get dressed, and he’d _completely_ forgotten to ask about mirrors around the bathroom, so he was probably going to have to wait until after his guard had left to go and have breakfast and...

Then he was going to have to find something to do with himself.

Ryouta resolved to push the thoughts of how he still felt more like a guest than a resident and how he had no idea what he would do with himself out of his mind until after his guard had departed. He was going to see them off with a smile on his face, and he wasn’t going to cry.

The worst part about getting up earlier was the fact that the bath was busier than usual. Ryouta would much rather have foregone the uncomfortable experience of sharing the bath with Imayoshi and Susa, both of whom seemed quite at ease talking to each other as they washed, and he was quicker in the bath that morning than he could ever remember being before in his life.

He made it down to the courtyard slightly before the scheduled departure time, and Kasamatsu seemed _surprised_.

“Don’t make that face, Kasamatsu-san,” Ryouta whined as he approached.

“The captain thought we’d have to wait for you,” called out one of the guards. Ryouta could see money changing hands.

“Did he have money on it?” Ryouta called back.

“Betted against,” someone else said, and Ryouta grinned.  
“I disappoint you to the last,” he teased.

Kasamatsu frowned. Clearly Ryouta’s light-hearted attempt at cheer wasn’t what he wanted from him today.

“Prince Kise,” Kasamatsu began, and Ryouta had a sinking feeling that he was going to be crying despite his resolve once Kasamatsu finished speaking, “it really has been an honour to work as closely with you as I have.”

“You’re going to make me cry,” he warned Kasamatsu, who smiled wryly.

“Since when has that ever stopped me? It’s why your sister appointed me your head babysitter, you know.”

Ryouta laughed slightly.

“Your family loves you,” Kasamatsu said. “There is always a place for you in Kaijo and Rakuzan. Just don’t let yourself forget it. You will always be Kaijo’s Prince Kise Ryouta.”

He clapped a hand on Ryouta’s shoulder. “Of all your siblings, you’re the most adaptable. You’ll be okay. Now, give me the presents and letters for your sisters.”

Ryouta handed them over dutifully, and let Kasamatsu go and stow them carefully away in his saddlebags.

Momoi arrived as he did so, and smiled up at Ryouta. “Good morning, Ki-chan.”

He beamed at her. “Good morning, Momocchi! Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, thank you,” she answered. “Will you introduce me to Kasamatsu-san? It would be quite inappropriate to hug a man I don’t know.” Her smile as she spoke was wicked.

“Of course! Come on,” Ryouta said, and skipped over to Kasamatsu, who took on a very wary look as he noticed Ryouta’s expression, and then outright _froze_ when he realised who his companion was.

“Kasamatsu-san, I want you to meet Princess Momoi Satsuki!” Ryouta introduced, acting completely oblivious to his friend’s distress. “She’ll probably be taking over some of your duties as my babysitter, since I hear she does most of the babysitting of Aominecchi. Momocchi, this is Kasamatsu Yukio, former captain of my guard. I think Rika has a spot for him in her Queen’s Guard, so he’s off to better places.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Kasamatsu-san,” Momoi greeted him, running from Ryouta’s cue to ignore the paralysed expression on Kasamatsu’s face. “Thank you for all your hard work taking care of Ki-chan! We’ll do our best to look after him from this point forward.”

A few choking noises made their way from Kasamatsu, and Ryouta desperately bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep from giggling.

“I hope you have a safe trip back to Kaijo,” Momoi continued, and then she reached out and hugged him.

Kasamatsu flushed bright red and then paled, and Ryouta was sure that if he could get his brain and tongue to work he’d be glaring at Ryouta with that look that spelled trouble for him; but as it was, he seemed to be at a complete loss as to what to say or do.

She let go of him and smiled. “Thank you for bringing Ki-chan to us safely.”

Kasamatsu nodded, and Momoi put a hand on Ryouta’s arm. “I’ll see you at breakfast after they’re gone, Ki-chan.”

“I hate you,” Kasamatsu muttered when Momoi was out of earshot.

“Why?” Ryouta asked, though he knew perfectly well why, and they both knew it.

Kasamatsu closed his eyes and breathed in slowly through his nose.

“You’re a good kid, Prince Kise, and I really do think that you’ll be taken care of and happy here. I’m sure I’ll see you again at some point, on a visit home.”  
“You won’t be able to get rid of me,” Ryouta promised. “And... thank you.”

Kasamatsu waved it away, and turned to swing himself into his horse’s saddle. Ryouta went to go stroke her neck as Kasamatsu called his guard to order.

“Have a safe trip home.”

“Don’t cause too much trouble, your highness.”

Ryouta stepped away from Kasamatsu’s mare and stood back to watch as the group started their journey.

Watching them leave was a lonely experience. As soon as they were out of his sight, Ryouta turned on his heel to go to breakfast. Momoi would be waiting for him, and he would feel better for the companionship and some food in him.

As he entered the dining room, though, it occurred to him that there would be other people having breakfast at this time of the day, and those other people included his elusive husband’s children.

“It’s Ryouta!” Daichi cheered.

“Should we call him father now?” Sora asked.

“Will you _finally_ take me to see your horse?”

“I don’t think so,” Akemi said. “He’s father’s bride, so wouldn’t he be mother?”

Momoi patted the space next to her and across from the children. “Come eat with me, Ki-chan,” she invited him. “It’s been a while since we took breakfast together.”

On her other side, her husband looked only half-awake.

“I want Ryouta to sit with _me_ ,” Akemi complained. “Daichi and Sora already got to sit with him, it’s _my_ turn.”

Momoi pinned her with a look, and she seemed to immediately remember who it was she was talking to, and she looked down at her food, thoroughly cowed.

Ryouta sat down next to Momoi.

“Do you have plans today, Momocchi?” Ryouta asked as he looked over his options.

“Yes,” she said, seeming content. “I’m going into the city with my Taisuke for my last day off before Shoichi insists on ‘getting my opinion’ on everything.”

“That sounds nice,” Ryouta said. “I’m... not really sure what I’m going to do today.”

“You’re going to take me to see your horse,” Daichi interrupted. “Like you _promised_.”

“No, he’s going to play with _us_ , right? You’re hogging Ryouta, it’s _our_ turn.” Akemi turned a smug look at her younger brother and crossed her arms.

“Please don’t fight...” Ryouta said, but, remembering his own childhood experience, had a feeling he was going to be ignored. “I can spend time with all of you.”

“What would he want to do with gross ugly boring _girls_?” Daichi asked.

“Do not start fighting at my breakfast table,” Momoi warned. Akemi and Daichi froze. “Ki-chan happens to have two sisters he loves very much, and he has time to spend with all of you. There’s no need to be causing such a fuss at breakfast, and if you start fighting again, I’ll just take Ki-chan with me into the city.”

The two settled down almost timidly, and Momoi’s husband leaned back behind her to make a whispered comment to Ryouta.

“She’ll do it, too,” he muttered. “Even if she doesn’t want to. She’s always of the opinion that Aomine’s brats need to have the few rules on them enforced firmly.”

“They’re Dai-chan’s,” she said simply, as if it was an explanation. Maybe it was.

“How about we all go down to visit Raicchi,” Ryouta suggested, “and then we’ll come and do something Sora and Akemi want to do?”

The three of them nodded, and Ryouta shared a look with Momoi and... actually, now that he thought about it, he wasn’t sure that anyone had told him Momoi’s husband’s last name; and now it was going to be too awkward to ask.

“We’ll wait until you’re done eating breakfast, Ki-chan,” Momoi said, smiling, “so that if they act up, I can take you with me.”

The rest of Ryouta’s breakfast was very quiet, though he could tell the children were only barely containing themselves. They studiously avoided touching or even _looking_ at each other, as if doing so would cause them to break the very fragile peacefulness that had settled around the table.

They twitched every time Ryouta seemed to finish; he almost felt mean continuing to eat, but he could sense Momoi’s amusement, and it spurred him to keep going just a little longer even when he probably would have been fine to stop eating.

Finally, he laughed and stood up. “Okay, come on.”

The three of them scrambled to their feet, and Momoi and her husband stood too.

“Have fun today, Ki-chan,” she said, and slipped her hand into her husband’s. “If they’re too much for you at any point, just call for a servant to fetch their nurses, okay?”

Ryouta nodded, and watched the two of them walked out.

As soon as Momoi was out of the room, the three children launched themselves at Ryouta. There was a fierce battle between the three of them, but in the end, it was Akemi and Sora who had gleefully claimed his hands, one using her superior height as the older sibling, and the other having successfully avoided the fighting pair in the first place.

Daichi looked enormously put out.

“Why don’t you lead the way, Daichi?” Ryouta asked. He knew the way by now, of course; but he thought it might appease Daichi to feel important, since he couldn’t hold onto one of Ryouta’s hands.

Predictably, he puffed up, and then he pointed to the door. “This way!”

Ryouta bit down on a smile in response, and followed Daichi out the door, Akemi ahead of him and pulling on his hand, and Sora trailing just a little bit behind.

 _Well_ , Ryouta thought, _at least I won’t be lonely. There’ll always be someone who wants to spend some time with me_.

As they entered the stable, Daichi looked more and more excited.

“Which one’s yours?”

Ryouta let go of Akemi’s hand to point down the stable at the stall were some white was visible. “Raicchi’s down there. Be careful!” he called as Daichi shot off. “Raicchi can have a mean streak!”

He sighed and looked at Akemi. “And Raicchi really doesn’t like your father, so we should probably make sure my beautiful, mean-spirited horse doesn’t hurt your brother.”

Akemi giggled, and Ryouta smiled before starting forward again, keeping a close watch on the ground in case there were any nails or other sharp objects on the ground that Sora might step on.

Thankfully, Daichi had waited for Ryouta to reach Raiden before trying to get into the horse’s stall. Ryouta let go of both Akemi and Sora’s hands to grab him before he rushed in.

“You’ll spook him,” he scolded. “And then you’ll both get hurt. We’ll bring him out into the courtyard, alright?”

Ryouta approached his temperamental friend and stroked his nose. “Be good, Raicchi,” he murmured. He looked around for Raiden’s bridle, and upon locating it, slipped it over his head.

“Can I ride him?” Daichi asked, looking excited.

“Not without your father’s permission.”

Daichi scowled.

“Akemi, please hold onto Sora’s hand,” Ryouta asked as he carefully led Raiden out of his stall. He was suddenly very aware of Raiden’s size, of how easy it would be for his beloved grumpy horse to hurt the kids.

Out in the yard, he coaxed Raiden into lying down, and turned to the kids.

“Alright. Now, Raicchi can be very grumpy, so be really gentle, okay? He likes to bite people if he thinks I don’t like them, but he should be okay with you. He doesn’t really like to have his legs touched, but if you’re gentle he won’t mind if you stroke his nose. His neck is his favourite, of course.”

The three kids nodded, although Akemi and Sora seemed much more solemn than Daichi, who was barely able to keep his excitement in check.

“Just... I want you to watch how I do it, okay?” Ryouta was worried that given the uncanny resemblance between Daichi and his father, that Raiden would not react very well; he wanted to take every precaution that Daichi might not irritate the horse in any manner.

He was very gentle in his strokes to Raiden’s nose; a little more firm on his neck. An idea occurred to him, but he decided to put aside voicing it until after the kids had introduced themselves properly to Raiden.

 “Come over and let him get used to you. Don’t move too fast, because you’ll spook him. Just put your hand out for him to smell, okay?”

Daichi walked over slowly with his hand out; Ryouta kept stroking his neck, hoping that his presence and soothing actions would help this go as smoothly as possible.

Initially, Raiden seemed hesitant about this little Aomine person; but as he got a smell of him, he seemed to decide he didn’t mind the small Aomine, especially since Ryouta didn’t seem to mind him either.

“There we go,” Ryouta murmured. “You should be okay to pat him now. Akemi, Sora, would you like to come introduce yourselves too?”

Akemi was eager enough, now that her sacrificial brother had done it first; Sora still looked a little wary, so Ryouta took the chance to leave Raiden and take her hand.

“I’ll be right here. It’ll be alright! Raicchi loves me. We can braid his mane together. Would you like that?” he asked.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Daichi pull a face, but Akemi seemed delighted.

“Oh, but I don’t have any ribbons,” she realised, and she frowned.

“You can go and get some, if you want.”

“And then will you braid my hair?” Akemi asked.

Ryouta smiled at her. “If you want me to.”

He watched her back slowly away from Raiden, and then race back off into the castle, and smiled at Sora.

“Come on, I promise he won’t bite!”

 

* * *

 

Ryouta trudged to dinner that evening feeling exhausted.

Despite the fact that he’d been convinced by the children to take the afternoon nap with them – a ploy which they clearly used so that he would be there to play with when they all woke up again – playing with them and entertaining them had been hard work.

There’d been a few times when servants looked in, and he’d thought about having their nannies fetched; but he remembered what it was like to be a kid in a palace, when your parents were too busy to play with you. He didn’t have duties to attend to, or even really anyone else to spend time with at the moment. So why should he run when all they probably wanted was a part of their family to be with?

When he finally got to the dining room, he was immensely surprised to see Aomine already there, and _not eating yet_.

Over the past few days, Aomine had arrived late to dinner, eaten and barely spoke, before he’d wander off. No one else would be done when he left, and even though Ryouta had excused himself early last night to try and catch Aomine, he hadn’t been able to. He’d found himself searching aimlessly with no idea of Aomine’s direction or goal destination, and in the end had given up.

So this... was strange.

He would be able to understand if Aomine was eating. At least if he was eating, then it would be consistent with his previous behaviour, because he would be attempting to finish eating and leave before Ryouta arrived, but he _wasn’t_.

Tentatively, because he wasn’t sure if it was okay, but knew it was expected of him, he went to sit down next to Aomine.

Aomine looked at him, and for a long moment they shared more eye-contact than they had since the moment Ryouta had woken up curled in Aomine’s arms; and then, almost simultaneously they looked away, and Ryouta felt anger simmering under his skin.

It’s the first time he really lets himself think about the way that Aomine has been avoiding him. Avoiding him without an explanation of why. Yes, the morning they woke up was awkward, but Ryouta didn’t deserve to be treated like this!

Aomine had taken him from his home; Aomine hadn’t _had_ to marry him, Aomine could have said _no_. But here Ryouta was, married to him, and now he was alone, and it was _all Aomine’s fault_ , and the bastard couldn’t even spend five minutes with him.

Almost as if everyone could tell that there was something wrong, nobody attempted to coax either Ryouta or Aomine into any conversation that evening. It was like the rest of the family thought that a single word from either of them would result in a messy argument right then and there, and _no one_ wanted to witness their first fight as a couple.

Ryouta was just glad that it was only the family here tonight; this would be disastrous in front of anyone else.

Aomine seemed to have no plans to get up; even as most of the family beat a hasty retreat from the storm they can feel brewing, Aomine stayed right where he was until Ryouta stood up. Only then did he get up.

Ryouta ground his teeth, and turned towards the door. He wasn’t going to bend; if Aomine wanted to explain or apologise, it would be on _him_ to do so. Ryouta certainly wasn't going beg for an explanation when he'd done nothing wrong.

He was acutely aware of Aomine’s footsteps behind him as he walked purposefully towards their rooms. Ryouta was trying to decide if he was just being given the silent treatment instead of being ignored when they arrived at their rooms; he pushed his way in and retreated to change.

Ryouta could play the silent game too, if he had to.

He walked past Aomine as he exited their wardrobe, and made to curl up in bed.

“Ryouta.”

He paused, standing in front of their bed and looking away from him. He turned around.

“What is it?”

He sounded cold even to himself. Ryouta wondered if perhaps there was some element of truth to the stories told in Kaijo about how his family was born from the seas after all.

Aomine rubbed the back of his head. Clearly he was struggling with what he wanted to say, but Ryouta didn’t feel prepared to try and help him out.

The one mercy Ryouta was willing to show him was that he would wait him out. He stood there and watched him, and waited; he didn’t turn away. He wanted to hear what Aomine had to say, because he suspected it was the explanation he was seeking about why Aomine was avoiding him.

Still, his patience wasn’t endless. And as Aomine continued to stand there and say nothing, he sighed and decided that it just wasn’t happening.

“I’m going to bed,” he announced, and went to turn around.

“Oi, I’m talking to you!”

Ryouta snorted softly and turned back to look at him. There was a determined set to his jaw as he finally managed to get some words out.

“Look, I know that you probably don’t want to see me or anything, but for what it’s worth, I know it’s been really wrong of me to avoid you. I just kind of figured you didn’t want to see me.”

Ryouta sighed and closed his eyes. “Yes, it was.” He opened them again to look at Aomine; he was still upset, but clearly Aomine was trying, even if he was either too awkward or just plain too proud to make a proper apology.

That was okay. Ryouta could deal with that.

“I’ll forgive you,” he said, “as long as you make it up to me, and never do it again.”

Aomine spent a long moment looking at him, and then he nodded. “What do you want me to do?”

Well, Ryouta didn’t have anything thought up... he looked around, unsure, and then it occurred to him.

“You gave me a present,” he said. “You should teach me to use it properly.”

Aomine seemed to have some reservations, judging by the expression on his face, but Ryouta didn’t falter. So he shrugged.

“Yeah, okay.”

Ryouta smiled at him. “ _Now_ can I go to bed?”

He didn’t wait for Aomine’s answer before turning back to the bed.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the long wait! There are many reasons and excuses but I won't mention them anymore and just stop delaying you. On to the chapter!
> 
> P.S. Just a bit of a warning. A certain character from another series sneaked in because I've been meaning to write with him and I guess he just grew tired of waiting.

Daiki stared at Ryouta’s peacefully sleeping face and knew this was going to be hard. What Ryouta had asked of him in return for ignoring him the past few days already sounded like a challenge: teach him how to use the blade he gifted him with. Ryouta had the skill to be successful at mastering the sword but it would not be easy. Not by a long shot. But it wasn’t as if they’d get anywhere if Daiki didn’t do what he had to do to get things started.

“Oi, Ryouta.”

No response. Ryouta just continued to lie on his side, sleeping peacefully like Daiki imagined he also was just a few minutes earlier. It wasn’t surprising; the sun wasn’t even up yet and it wouldn’t be for a bit longer.

“Ryouta.”

Still no response and so Daiki took further action. He reached over and squeezed two fingers firmly around his sleeping bride’s nose. It only took a few seconds and soon, Ryouta was literally struggling awake. Truth be told, it wasn’t a pretty sight, with Ryouta’s eyes opening but also crossing as he flailed a little, limbs and hair going everywhere. Daiki would have laughed if it still wasn’t dark out. The early morning hour pretty much made a lot of things less humorous than they usually would be. Much as he was could get up before the sun rose, it wasn’t one of his favorite things to do.

“Aom’ncchi!” Ryouta squawked in protest, still flailing at him and finally Daiki couldn’t resist a smirk. Ryouta did look funny with his pretty face all scrunched up. “Nget ngo!”

And so he did, but his victim still didn’t take too kindly at it, of course. In fact, Ryouta was glaring at him, all pink in the face as he rubbed at his equally pink nose.

“What’re you doing?!”

Daiki shrugged like he hadn’t just tried to kill his bride, which he really didn't. “Waking you up.”

Predictably, Ryouta looked at him like he was insane. He glanced out at the nearest window and quickly turned back at him when he didn’t see the sun. “For what? It’s not even light out yet.”

Somehow, Daiki expected this reaction and answered without preamble. “We’re going to go running.”

Ryouta stared at him some more. “Now?”

Daiki nodded once. “Yes. It’s better when it’s not yet hot so we cover more ground before you start fainting on me.”

Ryouta frowned at that, affronted, but he was starting to get up at least. “I’m not some delicate lady of the court, you know.”

Tilting his head, Daiki took a bit of time to look at him as he unfolded himself out of the blankets and sheets of their very comfortable bed. It was very distracting but Daiki put in a lot of effort to keep his focus on what they were supposed to do. And while Ryouta was undeniably beautiful, he lacked muscle tone, strength and stamina.

“You’re just some levels above a delicate lady of the court.”

Ryouta gave another indignant squawk and threw a pillow at him; Daiki easily dodged it. “I am not!”

Daiki sighed, scratching at his own mussed up hair and rubbing his hand down his face. This was going as well as he thought it would but it didn’t make it any less irritating. “Let’s go already. The sooner you stop whining the sooner we get done.”

He was not surprised when Ryouta let out another pitiful whine and flopped back over the bed, practically throwing a tantrum and making all his efforts nil, “Aominecchi is so mean!”

“Believe me,” Daiki insisted a bit wearily as he got off the bed, “if I were being mean, I’d have thrown you off the bed to wake you up.”

That seemed to mollify Ryouta somewhat and he started slinking off the bed again. This time, while eyeing him as if he’d actually reach out and toss him off the bed.

Ryouta had a right to be suspicious; a few seconds more of whining and Daiki would have done just that.

 

* * *

 

It didn’t take long before Daiki started feeling regretful about getting out of bed. It was still cool without the sun in the sky and he had started them on a light jog on the pathways around the palace grounds. He briefly considered the parapets but figured that might also be difficult for Ryouta, never mind the mountain side, and so the pathways it was. They were barely warmed up when the complaining began.

“Aominecchi, how long are we doing this for?”

Daiki didn’t bother stopping himself from rolling his eyes. “Until there’s light. Don’t tell me you’re tired already. We’ve barely started.”

Ryouta made a soft, whimpery noise like he would start crying and Daiki stayed his hand from smacking him. “I hate running…”

“We’re just jogging.”

“But we’ll start running eventually, right?”  

Daiki sighed. “Yes. That’s what I said, right?”

“But this is so boooooring!”

Daiki glanced to the side. Ryouta was keeping pace with him and by the dim light, it was easy to see that he was pouting.

“You said you wanted to learn how to use that sword I gave you.”

“And what’s running got to do with that?!”

“Honestly,” Daiki gave another sigh and narrowed his eyes at Ryouta, “what were you doing in Kaijo? You know how to use that fancy sword of yours and you can beat every single man in your guard with hardly any problem.”

Ryouta beamed and Daiki swore if he had a tail, it would be wagging.  “Did Aominecchi see me that one time?”

The easy answer to that question would be “yes” because while Daiki had been avoiding him that time, it didn’t mean that he hadn’t taken some time to see what it was he did. Daiki didn’t really want the conversation to wander back to that time so he didn’t give a direct answer. “So why weren’t they making more use of your skill?”

They were keeping a steady pace around the gardens and the air smelled sweetly of the flowers in bloom and the dew in the grass and the leaves. Daiki was barely winded and Ryouta seemed to still be holding up, if that slight smile on his face was any indication.

“I guess they felt that I didn’t need to train seriously. I’m the Prince of Kaijo but it was never expected of me to command an army or anything like that.”

It was never an expectation for Daiki either to lead Touou’s army; it all just happened by chance and choice. He grew up with a sword in his hand and was given the opportunity to sharpen the god-given skill. The latest conflict made him step up to take his place at the head of the army in place of his father.  He couldn’t expect Ryouta to follow the same path as he did, but he still had to wonder.

“What was expected of you then?”

Daiki felt warm like the sun had already risen as Ryouta grinned brightly with mischief and glee.

“To make a very advantageous marriage, of course!”

The answer was silly, more fitting for delicate, pampered princess, and Daiki snorted, shaking his head. He supposed it made sense. Ryouta was kind of like a princess anyway.

“Well you managed to do that. What’re you going to do now?” Daiki asked, but didn’t wait for a response and instead picked up the pace. “Hurry up. We’ve got more ground to cover and you’re too slow.”

It was not a surprise that Ryouta was miserable once they were done for the day. It was already a bit hot then but it wasn’t late enough to completely miss breakfast. Daiki had worked up a sweat and his body was awake enough to do more, if only Ryouta was more up to the task. Unfortunately and expectedly, Daiki's bride was happy enough to literally throw in the towel.

"I'm all disgusting..." Ryouta whined for the nth time that morning as he wiped himself down and Daiki wished he had built up a tolerance for it by then but no. It was still annoying, even more so when he got a look at the other prince's puffed up cheeks and pouting face. "And I'm tired and I ache and I'm hungry!"

Daiki finally gave in to the urge and slapped him up the head, ignoring the cries of anguish and accusations of abuse. A vein on his temple was throbbing as he gritted his teeth. "If you're as tired as you say you are, you wouldn't even be standing, much less complaining, idiot."

It was a roundabout sort of observation, not a suggestion but Ryouta seemed to take it as one anyway when he went ahead and slumped onto Daiki.

"Aominecchi, I don't want to walk back!"

Daiki pushed him off without hesitation. "You say you don’t want to, not 'can't'. Start moving."

Another pathetic whimper and Ryouta started trudging on forward back to the direction of their quarters. Daiki followed him, already looking forward to a big and hearty breakfast and a nice long bath. Ryouta interrupted his daydreaming when that pouty face got turned on him again and he was asked a question.

"Are we going to do this again tomorrow?"

He tried to stop himself, really, he did but there was just something about seeing Ryouta looking so miserable that made him smirk.

Daiki nodded once. "We are but we're going to go faster."

"Noooooooo," Ryouta practically wailed and Daiki wouldn't be surprised if he could be heard all the way back to the palace, "I hate running!"

Daiki put a hand over the back of Ryouta’s head and pushed.  "Shut up and just keep on moving."

 

* * *

 

"Noooooooooo..."

Daiki rubbed a hand down his face, praying for patience as he stood in the dim light of their bedroom the next morning. It was the second day and Ryouta was not getting out of bed. Due to the new strain he put on his body the day before, Ryouta was probably aching all over but that was not going to stop Daiki from pushing him.

"You know, if you'd gotten up earlier when I asked you to, you'd be standing by now and we'd have started." Daiki told the pathetic lump of Ryouta on the bed.

Ryouta didn't move not even when Daiki started nudging at his shoulder.

"I'd slap your hand off and it'd really hurt if I could right now but I can't so you're lucky." Ryouta snapped irritably but hardly made a move. That pouty glare was not terrifying at all; Daiki poked at a cheek and had to snort at the growl he got for his trouble.

"Too much talking, my noisy bride. If you only put all that energy you use to whine to get up and move, really."

"I don't caaaaaare..." Ryouta gave him another mutinous pouty glare and just turned over.

Daiki stared at his back.

"If you don't get up in five seconds, I'm dragging you off that bed. I mean it."

There was a pause.

"...Aominecchi is the meanest." Ryouta mumbled petulantly but started the torturous task of rolling painfully off the bed on his own.

Daiki watched him with satisfaction.

 

* * *

 

The third day was better in that Daiki didn’t have to do much to get Ryouta out of bed. Ryouta was a quick learner and seemed to be resigned to the fact that Daiki wasn't going to stop waking him up before the crack of dawn to run for a few hours. He wasn't happy about it but at least he was compliant. And he still continued to whine and complain but by then, Daiki had also accepted that Ryouta wasn't going to stop being a whiny brat no matter what he said.

It was a curious thing to Daiki, how Ryouta won't stop complaining, but he did the work anyway and didn't stop until Daiki said they could. Ryouta's stamina still wasn't up to par but he wasn't completely useless either and well, that was good. Ryouta already did better than he expected and it should only get better from there.

Daiki also knew, however, that Ryouta wasn't going to just keep on with just this even if it was just for a while. Satsuki was very generous in giving him information about his pouty, whiny bride and she advised him that it would be good to keep Ryouta from getting bored while he was training.

Daiki may not have Satsuki's brilliant mind but he also had his own ideas.

 

* * *

 

"Running again."

Daiki could hear the note of sullenness on Ryouta's voice as he led them down another pathway in the palace grounds on the fourth day. To someone not very familiar with the surroundings, they would think that it all looked the same but it was darker and quieter. The trees were taller here and it was cooler, the shadows and shade providing shelter from the rising sun.

Ryouta didn't notice and didn't care as he just continued on talking. Really, Aomine had to admit the other prince really had some stamina in him to just keep on talking while just being a bit breathless.

"Aominecchi, when are we going to do other things? When am I going to get to touch my sword?"

There was a lewd joke in there somewhere that Daiki resisted to point out. Instead, he just answered Ryouta's question. "Not for a while yet."

"What?" The question came out high and incredulous, "Are you joking? Why?"

Patiently, Daiki responded though he was a bit distracted, "Because that sword is different from what you're used to. You'll use practice swords first."

"But Aominecchi!" And thus the whining began anew and Daiki tuned him out as he continued to look this way and that, searching for something up in the branches of the trees and the shadows that loomed. There was a reason they passed this way but it would be a bit disappointing if he missed it. A moment later, though, he heard a tell-tale rustle and he looked over his shoulder.

Ryouta was still talking, face twisted up in a petulant moue at the unfairness of it all, and Daiki looked beyond him and down. At the silent shadow that trailed their tracks. It moved smoothly just a few paces behind Ryouta, large, graceful and blending seemlessly with the landscape that if you didn't know how to look for it, it could still be missed despite its size. Its pale blue eyes stood out, however, and they met Daiki's gaze unflinchingly when it lifted its huge, heavy head.

"Ryouta."

"--What?" Ryouta finally stopped though he was obviously annoyed about being interrupted. He had a lot to say and Daiki hadn't been listening anyway.

Daiki just glanced on over his shoulder again, at the black panther trotting after them. "Behind you."

"Aominecchi, were you listening? I'm--!" Ryouta looked over his shoulder and finally stopped talking to only let out a shrill scream, tearing right past him as if the panther was actually giving chase.

Daiki watched him go for a moment before looking down at the panther who was keeping pace with him. "Why am I not surprised he's got all that energy left?"

Obviously the panther didn't answer and Daiki jogged on ahead, calling out to Ryouta to know where he was.

"I'm up here!"

Ryouta's shaky, panicked response came from up a tree and sure enough, he had gotten himself up there at a supposedly safe distance, clinging for dear life even if he found a good, sturdy spot. Golden eyes were wide and panicked when they fell on Daiki and were those tears? Daiki almost felt sorry.

"Aominecchi! Get up here! What are you doing--THE PANTHER'S BESIDE YOU!"

"...About that..." He glanced down at the panther that had stopped beside him, pale blue eyes intently fixed on Ryouta's tense figure up among the branches. "You do know she could climb up if she wanted to, right?"

But before Ryouta could all out panic and send the palace guards running to save them, Daiki held up his hands in a way that was supposed to calm him down.

"It's all right." He called out reasurringly. "Look. She's friendly."

He put one of his hands over the panther's large head and started petting gently.

In response, the panther opened its mouth wide and took Daiki's hand between its rows of sharp teeth.

Ryouta screamed.

 

* * *

 

Ryouta still wasn't talking to him the next day and really wouldn't get out of bed no matter how Daiki tried to coax him out and after Daiki actually tried to apologize. Probably the worst part about it was Shia, his black panther (the traitor), was sharing their bed and was also giving Daiki looks of, as far as he could tell, reproach and judgement.   

It wasn't as if he purposely set out to scare the living daylights out of Ryouta by leading him to the part of the grounds where Shia frequented. Never mind that he never told Ryouta that he had an actual panther roaming around freely and that she'd never hurt anyone even if she did like to stick his hand into her mouth. She had always done that and again, she'd never purposely hurt anyone.

But the fact of the matter was Ryouta wasn't talking to him. Ryouta had become fast friends with Shia after he made it clear she wasn't going to maul him to death and proceeded to ignore Daiki to play and cuddle with the overgrown feline instead. Hence why Shia slept on their bed and Daiki had to suffer being ignored by his annoyed bride while his heavy panther lay half over him all night.

He woke up tired and was definitely not in the mood to suffer any more of Ryouta ignoring him or Ryouta's training regiment in general.

"Oi," he tried again but didn't even try to poke or prod at Ryouta to get his attention this time.

"I'm not talking to you, Aominecchi." Ryouta said as he relaxed over the bed and scratched behind Shia's ears. Shia let out a soft, quiet breath and closed her eyes in response to the gentle scratching. It was already bright outside and in the light of day, it was easy to see that the blond prince was also tired despite having only risen a few minutes ago.

Despite what he said, Ryouta still kind of spoke to him, addressed him, so in Daiki's point of view, this wasn't as bad as it could really get.

"I know that," Daiki said as he put himself in Ryouta's line of vision, sitting down by Ryouta's feet. Ryouta wouldn't look at him but Daiki persevered, "but I really am sorry. I didn't think you’d be that scared..."

He had been apologizing since yesterday but when groveling wasn't working, Daiki knew he had to do more than just taking responsibility and apologizing.

"Can I try and make it up to you?"

Ryouta's eyes were on Shia as he gently stroke nimble fingers along her soft ears.

"Please?"

Ryouta sighed and finally looked up to meet Daiki’s gaze, “Fine. How will you make it up to me?”

 

* * *

 

Daiki could feel Ryouta’s stare boring onto his back as he led him down some stairs. He sighed and resisted the urge to look over his shoulder and meet that pouty look.

“I swear nothing is going to come after you here.”

“Aominecchi is leading me down another dark, shadowy place,” came Ryouta’s wary reply, “I have every right to be suspicious.”

This time, Daiki really did look over his shoulder. Ryouta was still sulking, cheeks kind of puffed up in that way they sometimes did that Daiki had come to know was a sign that he was not happy.

“There are no more panthers here. And I’m taking you somewhere that’d make you feel better.”

The silence that followed had a slight curious air to it and Daiki didn’t disturb it as he continued walking on ahead down a path along the side of the palace. It was a bit of a walk from their quarters and again, he took them through the gardens on the grounds. They were going somewhere dimly lit and secluded but pretty soon, Ryouta would be able to see why.

The path ended at a door in the middle of a walled enclosure and after Daiki pushed it open to let them in, he heard Ryouta let out a soft sound of wonder. What greeted them beyond the door was a gorgeous view of the blue sky meeting the green of the mountain range and somewhere between that was a sparkling spring. It was a majestic sight but that was not exactly what they came here for.

“Daiki-sama! You’re here!”

Even though he expected to be greeted by that voice, Daiki couldn’t help but flinch a little before turning to look at the one who addressed him.

“Kisumi, do you have to be so loud?”

The grin he got for his trouble was too cheeky by far but not surprising coming from the source, a tall, pink-haired young man with bright violet eyes and a too pretty face. Shigino Kisumi had always been obstinate and troublesome but then Daiki supposed that was what happened when someone knew you from when you were just a little, scrappy brat.

“But you were distracted and I had to get your attention.” Kisumi replied, smiling mischievously and even tossing him a playful wink before looking around him and executing a bit of a graceful bow. “We haven’t been introduced, Ryouta-sama, but it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Oh,” Ryouta looked a bit disoriented, still recovering from the surprise of the unexpected spectacular view and a new person’s very cheerful appearance, “it’s also nice to meet you...”

“Shigino Kisumi.” Daiki filled in the gap before Kisumi went on and piped up eagerly. He could really be too familiar even with people he had just met, even if they were royalty. “He’s the caretaker of the hot springs.”

“So if you need anything, please just let me know, Ryouta-sama.” Kisumi piped in anyway and Daiki sighed but he was happily ignored. “Daiki-sama brought you here today to relax so I’ll be more than happy to assist.”

“Thank you...”

Daiki had to give Kisumi a bit of a look for the overly warm welcome. Even Ryouta looked overwhelmed. “I’ll take it from here.”

Thankfully, Kisumi wasn’t completely clueless and took that as his cue to go. Flashing another bright smile, he moved ahead up the path toward another set of doors. “I’ll check up on you two later. Enjoy!”     

There was just the soothing sound of gently rushing water for a while as they watched him go as if making sure he really was leaving them alone.

“He’s...very enthusiastic.” Ryouta commented, breaking the pause effectively.

“He enjoys what he does.” Daiki glanced to Ryouta who had started looking around again. “Let’s go?”

Daiki didn’t actually wait for Ryouta to follow. He knew he would; it wasn’t as if Ryouta had anywhere else to be and it was obvious his curiosity was peaked.

“I didn’t know there were hot springs here.” Ryouta said as he caught up, walking beside him.

Daiki shrugged. “You weren’t really happy about the baths, so...”

“I think I know why all of you here are so comfortable with being naked and taking baths together.”

“Really?” Daiki asked, humoring him as he led him past the doors and down a corridor that smelled a lot like Ryouta’s bridal bath house, sweet and heady with the perfumed scent of flowers and oils. He entered a room that was plainly furnished but it was not exactly a place to stay in for the long haul. Getting inside, he started taking off his clothes, starting with the shirt he had on.

“Yes. I mean, huge, communal baths and hot springs? It’s just so natural for all of you here to be naked together.” Ryouta sighed. “And look, you’re getting naked in front of me now like it’s nothing. Are you really going to just start taking off your clothes now?”

Daiki looked over at Ryouta to find him politely looking away from him and not making any move to remove his own clothes. “You can’t get into the springs with clothes on.”

Ryouta looked pained before actually starting to make a move to disrobe, turning away from Daiki as he did, “I thought you’re trying to make it up to me. This is horrible, Aominecchi.”

Daiki nearly threw his shirt at him. “Again, too much complaining. Just do it.”

“Look away!”

Daiki groaned and dutifully looked away from Ryouta while he continued on shedding his own clothes. It still kind of annoyed him that he was married to someone so beautiful and he couldn’t even look at them at the best times. He just reminded himself that Ryouta, despite his beauty, could be downright difficult and that made it just a teensy bit better. It was a strange thought but it did make him feel a bit better.

“There’s some towels by the side. You can get one to wrap yourself in it if you want.”

Daiki also got a towel for himself before Ryouta could complain. “Are you done?”

“Yes.”

It was a bit surprising to find that Ryouta had only wrapped the towel around his lower half. Granted, it only reached his knees but still. The placement of the towel put Ryouta’s upper body in full view and the pink blush that worked its way down the fair skin of his neck and chest.

“Stop looking…” Ryouta near whimpered, fidgeting uncomfortably under Daiki’s scrutiny while giving him a mutinous look. “Are we going to the hot springs now or what?”

Daiki met those glaring golden eyes and nodded his head toward the direction of their destination, “This way.”

An hour or so later, Ryouta was singing a different tune.

"You are forgiven." Ryouta said, a peaceful, beatific smile on his face as he closed his eyes and enjoyed the heat and steam rising from the water. His fair skin was pink because of the heat and Daiki made sure to keep an eye on him as they soaked. His plan of earning Ryouta's forgiveness did not include fishing Ryouta out of the water because he fainted.

"Better?" Daiki asked, his tone lazy. It was always so relaxing to just sit in the heated water, letting it relax his muscles and joints.

Ryouta hummed and kept his eyes closed, smiling still as he soaked contentedly. “I could stay here forever.”

“You’ll shrivel up like a prune.”

“I’ll stay here for a few more minutes.”

They were interrupted after Ryouta’s few more minutes when Kisumi showed up again, smiling just as brightly as he did when he met them at the entrance. He stood out of the water by the side, watching them soak almost side by side.

“You two look like you’re having a good time.” He remarked, taking in Ryouta’s expression of indulgent bliss and grinning at the way Daiki was kind of scowling at him. “Did I interrupt something?”

“Oh no, you’re not. Not at all.” Ryouta spoke up before Daiki could respond in affirmative. His smile to Kisumi this time was more sincere, genuinely pleased, “This place is amazing. I’ll definitely have to come back again soon.”

Kisumi returned the smile but of course more brightly. “I’m glad! And please do, Ryouta-sama. Daiki-sama often comes by so you could just come with him.”

Daiki glanced to Ryouta when he turned to him, “We’ll come back whenever you like.”

And as Ryouta practically beamed, Kisumi added, “But your visit is not over yet, Ryouta-sama. Has Daiki-sama told you of what comes after a soak in the hot springs?”

Daiki didn’t and Ryouta’s eyes widened in askance, “There’s more besides this?”

Kisumi smiled that mischievous smile and Daiki suddenly had a feeling that there was another thing he missed to think of.

 

* * *

 

“Oh.”

The sound came out in a soft, surprised moan, the kind that sent a shiver along Daiki’s skin, so he kept his gaze out to the gorgeous view. The sky was very clear today and the green of the mountainside was kind of dark but it was still good. The hotspring had steam rising from it. Not thick enough to not see anything but there was a bit of a fog.

“Oh, Shigino…”

“It’s not too hard for you, Ryouta-sama?”

“Oh no, no. It’s perfect. Good…”

Another moan came from Ryouta, the kind that Daiki could imagine curled his toes and made his back arch, and Daiki had to shift a little because unsurprisingly, the sounds Ryouta was making behind him was making him kind of uncomfortable. And he was in a loose robe but that did not necessarily make things any better or easier.

“Would you also like a massage, Daiki-sama?” Kisumi called then, his tone light, and Daiki told himself that the bastard wasn’t taunting him. Not at all. “That could easily be arranged, of course.”

Ryouta made another sound, this time a soft, keening noise in his throat, as Kisumi’s skilled hands and fingers kneaded and touched his naked skin and Daiki told himself that it would do no good to kill Kisumi right then and there. It would be too messy and well, Kisumi was actually irreplaceable, damn him.

“No,” Daiki replied darkly, “I’m all right.”

Kisumi would get his soon enough.

 

* * *

 

“I’ll see you both soon!” Kisumi waved from the doorway, not at all affected by the way Daiki was glaring at him but then again Daiki wasn’t as intimidating when he had an armful of Ryouta stuck to his side.

“We’ll definitely be back!” Ryouta waved back though he was less peppy about it. It seemed that he was content to just lean against Daiki a little and didn’t really go far even when they began the walk back. Ryouta had been all lazy and lethargic after his long and relaxing full body massage to the point that he was leaning on Daiki and letting him lead and walk him around.

Daiki looked to him as they walked back while he kept an arm around him, “Oi, are you sure you’re all right? Maybe Kisumi overdid it.” If Ryouta could barely walk without support, there had to be something wrong, right?

Ryouta gave another blissful hum, burrowing against Aomine a little since it was a little chilly and it was all warm in the hot spring. “I’m more than all right. I feel good.”

His nose tickled Daiki when he brushed it along his cheek and ear in a bit of a nuzzle and Daiki stilled.

"Thank you, Aominecchi."

"...For what?" Daiki asked, kind of dumbly because he was too distracted by Ryouta being suddenly so affectionate. It made him feel warm, like he hadn't left the hot spring at all.

"For being nice." Ryouta said then drew back and he was smiling at him, all soft and gentle and sweet. "Thank you."

Daiki stared back and held his gaze for as long as he could but then he had to look away. The expression on Ryouta's face made him look so beautiful and happy, he couldn't take it.

"You're welcome." He answered gruffly, tightening his hold on him a little more and holding him even closer.

Ryouta just huddled in deeper.

 

* * *

 

The next day, Daiki let Ryouta sleep in and after almost a week of being constantly together, Daiki finally spent some time away from his all too charming and all too infuriating bride.

“His face.” Daiki muttered from his prone position over Satsuki’s sitting room floor. “His stupid, pretty face.”

“Shoichi chose him for his face, Dai-chan, yes.” Satsuki murmured absently as she looked over some reports that were oh so graciously handed over to her earlier. “You asked him to get you a pretty one and Shoichi got Ki-chan for you.”

“He’s got to stop looking at me like that.”

Satsuki finally looked up at that but only briefly. Obviously, some things were more pressing than Daiki’s own emotional turmoil as he lay uselessly on her floor. At least for a little while longer.

“You said he looked happy when he woke up this morning. Isn’t that good?”

“You’re not helping…”

She sighed tiredly. Right now, she really had no time for Daiki’s strange moods. “Dai-chan, I think it’s good that Ki-chan is warming up to you. Don’t you think so? Now, can we do this later? I need to finish these...”

Satsuki lost herself in her work again and completely forgot about the curled up figure of Daiki on the floor. Daiki whose face was warm as he restlessly rubbed a hand over his fast-beating heart and recalled the moment when Ryouta woke up this morning and smiled at him, golden and beautiful under the sun’s light,

_“I’m so happy Aominecchi is here...”_

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god I am so fucking sorry about how long this took me to update holy shit. ;~;
> 
> But hey... at least I updated before I went away for three weeks?

It was hardly dignified for Ryouta to be running around the yard shrieking, but unfortunately, the spectacle was common enough these days that any servants or soldiers that would wander by this area would hardly be fazed by the ruckus.

In all fairness, he _had_ started it; but Aomine was far too determined to finish it. Probably brutally, too. He had no qualms about leaving Ryouta covered in dust and bruises, and he never pulled his punches.

Or, in this case, his hits. Specifically, with that stick he was holding onto while he chased after Ryouta.

Ryouta had a stick too, but his had significantly less length to it than Aomine’s did. Mostly because he’d only been using his to poke Aomine as he lay collapsed on the ground, because even though they’d been doing this running thing disgustingly persistently for the last month, he still refused to stop complaining about it, even though he could feel the difference it was making.

He could feel it right now, in fact, because he was running pretty much at full speed to get out of the range of the stick that Aomine was threatening to hit him with, and just a short while ago, he would probably have already been lying prone on the ground and nursing a brand new bruise.

That was probably still his immediate fate, but Ryouta would accept nothing less than to prevent it for as long as possible.

Regrettably, he was rapidly approaching a wall. His odds for making the sharp turn unscathed were low – somehow, Aomine always managed to get him when he swerved, figuring out his change of direction with a truly despicable accuracy.

This time was no different – the back of his left calf stung as he kept racing, and rather than let Aomine get away with a free hit, Ryouta threw his useless stick at him.

Of course Aomine dodged, but Ryouta felt mildly better, and as he turned back to keep racing away, he searched the ground for an acceptable new stick to use as his weapon.

His distraction proved to be his doom when Aomine brought him down swiftly and decisively. Unfortunately, the undignified flailing and yelling which accompanied Ryouta’s descent to the ground was also a very common spectacle around here lately.

Ryouta landed heavily, and it knocked the breath out of him as well as stung his palms and elbows, which had taken the brunt of his fall.

“Aominecchi,” he whined, attempting to turn over to face his brute of a life partner, “was that _really_ necessary?”

Aomine sat up on top of his legs, and Ryouta realised he wasn’t being allowed to turn over. “Yes,” Aomine said, very seriously, and proceeded to hit him with his stick.

“Ow, ow, ow, _stop_!”

Satisfied, Aomine did; but not before breaking the stick up into pieces, making it effectively useless as a future weapon.

He got up, and Ryouta turned over on the ground, groaning. “You’re so _mean_ , Aominecchi. I’m all gross now.”

“You started it,” Aomine pointed out. “And you were already all gross. You were complaining about it while you were poking me.”

“But now I’m gross _and_ dirty,” Ryouta argued. “And I don’t want to get up. It’s hot.”

Aomine sighed at him even as he offered a hand to help Ryouta up.

In the month and a half since they’d married, it had only gotten hotter as spring began to give way to summer. Ryouta was used to hot summers – Kaijo wasn’t _that_ far away that the kingdoms were so different seasonally – but Kaijo, especially the capital where Ryouta spent most of his time, was situated against the ocean, and there was often an ocean breeze that made the heat significantly more tolerable.

In comparison, it could get very muggy here in Touou; there was no ocean to cool the wind, and so it was often just air that was marginally less hot blowing past. So Ryouta was missing the easy ability to convince Kasamatsu that a trip down to the beach was in order, something that was much easier to do in the middle of the blistering summer heat. Sometimes, Ryouta wasn’t sure whether he would ever feel like he wasn’t constantly sweating ever again. Even the Touou-style clothes didn’t help, and that in itself had taken a bit of getting used to, feeling as if he was exposed; but he did appreciate the way he was somewhat cooler in the lighter fabric used for the loose pants and looser, shorter-sleeved shirts.

Especially since it was still early summer days, Ryouta was considering some of the skirts Momoi had brought up when they’d gone to get him some more weather appropriate clothes. He’d worn some skirts and heavy robes on some of his Rakuzan visits, but there it was fairly common, and while it was accepted here, especially in light of his _position_ , Ryouta wasn’t sold on it yet, especially considering that the design of them was much lighter and airier. Momoi had smiled at him in her knowing sort of manner when he’d said so, though, and he had a feeling she’d already had them made, and was just waiting for him to give in when the full force of summer hit.

Usually their training sessions would end for a bath and breakfast – sometimes a nap would come after breakfast, but more recently, Ryouta had found himself in Momoi’s study, helping her out with whatever tasks she needed to get done. Aomine would join, or wouldn’t, depending on his mood. Ryouta was still unsure what he actually _did_ around the castle as the Crown Prince, because Aomine’s leisurely lifestyle was such a stark contrast to his memories of Rika while she was still Crown Princess shadowing their father and attending his councils and meetings as his heir.

Today was another one of those days when, after washing off the grime and sweat of the training yard and having breakfast, Aomine wandered off who knows where, but the expression on his face indicated that the activity he had in mind was a nap. Ryouta was buzzing a little still from the exercise, so he decided to go and visit Momoi and see if there was anything she could use his help with today.

“Momocchi?” he called out after knocking on her door. Occasionally she wasn’t in here, and Ryouta didn’t like to disturb her study when she wasn’t inside.

“Come in, Ki-chan!”

He smiled, and let himself in. “Good morning!”

She nodded to him, distracted by the documents she was reading through. She’d get to him in a moment, he knew, so he settled himself on one of the chairs on the other side of her desk.

Momoi sighed and put the document to the side, and then she smiled at him. “We’re going to have a lot of work to do, Ki-chan,” she told him. “I’ve been given my budget for the summer celebrations.”

Ryouta blinked at her. “I’m sorry?”

She took in his expression, and laughed. “Ah, that’s right; Dai-chan wouldn’t have told you. You missed the spring ceremonies too, since you arrived after them. Don’t they have blessings and other rituals and festivals in Kaijo?”

“There are some things when fishing seasons start,” Ryouta offered. “And there are the yearly offerings to the sea gods, of course, which Rika leads.”

Momoi nodded. “Well, the Festival of the Sun is our summer celebration. I’m partially in charge of the organisation of it, because Shoichi thinks I manage the funds well.” She looks him over thoughtfully. “I don’t usually make too many choices regarding appointments for traditional ceremonies and such, and I don’t organise the event so much as I get in contact with performing troupes and those who will run food stalls and game stalls and such things. I don’t ensure it runs smoothly, since I have too many duties as a public figure to actually manage the event itself, but I do a lot of the organisation for the poor man who does manage it.”

Ryouta nodded. “And you want my help?”

She looked him over. “It’ll be good for you too, to get involved with these kinds of things. You’ll enjoy the actual festival; it tends to be the favourite for children and Dai-chan.”

He pouted. “Hey.”

She grinned at him, wicked and unrepentant. “Come on, Ki-chan. We have a lot of places to go today, and the first of them is the temple to talk to the priests.”

“Should I get Aominecchi?” Ryouta asked as he stood up. “He’ll be grumpy if I wake him though.”

Momoi shook her head. “We’ll leave Dai-chan to his naps and his children. He’ll only get in the way today.”

Ryouta offered an arm to her, and she took it as they walked down towards the stables. “The festival is probably going to be in late June,” she told him as they walked. “Around the fifteenth, or so, I think.”

That wasn’t very far away, Ryouta realised. “Do we have enough time?” Another thought also struck. “That’s near my birthday.”

Momoi smiled at him. “That’s right,” she said, and Ryouta wondered not for the first time, how she just _knew_ everything. “Was there anything special that you wanted for your birthday, Ki-chan?”

“You already do too much for me, Momocchi,” he told her. “I couldn’t possibly ask you for a gift on top of that!”

“Nonsense,” was her brisk response. “I fully expect expensive reparation in the form of lovely dresses and or jewellery. Charge it to Dai-chan’s account. I usually gift myself from it anyway, so it’ll be nice to have something picked out for me for once.”

Ryouta laughed. “I don’t really know,” he admitted. “We used to have a dinner and ball at home, and that was usually it after I reached adulthood. My gifts were usually trinkets and paintings and such things, if I did get them.” He frowned at the reminder, and wondered if he needed to send his sisters another letter reminding them there were some precious belongings he’d left behind in Kaijo that he’d like to have with him.

“Would you like to do that here?” Momoi asked. “We can do that, if you like, though it sounds more like work for you.”

Ryouta shook his head. “What do you usually do for people’s birthdays? What does Aominecchi get?”

A small, soft and undeniably fond smile turned on Momoi’s face. “Dai-chan’s very stubborn. He’s a simple creature, as you know – his weaponry and armour are simple and of the best quality, his horses are from the best breeding stock in the kingdom, though they’re nothing on your Raiden and other Rakuzan-bred warhorses, of course. He wants for very little, and desires less. Usually he asks that we give money to the kingdom in place of giving him a gift, especially orphanages and such.”

Ryouta _had_ known that Aomine was remarkably simple for someone born to their station; though it was undeniable that all of Aomine’s possessions were of the best quality, he didn’t luxuriate in silks and beautiful clothes and jewellery.

But then, he didn’t have to; everyone looked at him and saw him as a king, and his simplicity endeared him to the more common people. Ryouta had already learned that Aomine was best treated with good food.

“Well, that’s not really helpful,” he finally said, and Momoi laughed.

“Dai-chan also always asks for a day to himself,” she offered. “A day where he’s not bothered by anyone, left alone to eat and sleep and do as he pleases without being, and I quote ‘nagged’.”

“I’ll think about it,” Ryouta said, laughing. “We still have some time.”

 

* * *

 

Ryouta regretted not napping before going to find Momoi when he dragged himself back to their rooms. He was very grateful to collapse into bed, even if it was well past time for napping, and dinner would probably start soon.

He was already half asleep when he heard Aomine come in.

“There you are,” Aomine muttered. Louder, he said, “Dinner’s soon, you should clean up.”

“No,” Ryouta whined, and pressed his face into the sheets. “Momocchi’s a slave driver. I want to sleep.”

Aomine made an amused noise. “Well, yeah.”

“I can’t believe she’s making me do this,” Ryouta added. “It’s so embarrassing.”

He could hear Aomine moving around the room as he spoke, but he wasn’t sure what he was doing, and felt no inclination to lift his head to check. “I have to be _half-naked_. All day. I bet she knew they would ask me too, she’s _awful_.”

Aomine’s feet stopped moving. “Hold up, what’s this about being naked?”

Ryouta sighed, and managed to turn himself over to spread across the bed. Aomine had paused at the bookshelf and was looking over at him.

“I got asked to perform a ceremonial role at the Festival of the Sun,” Ryouta told him. Aomine frowned. “It’s the one—“

“I know the one,” Aomine interrupted.

“Momocchi left me at the temple to _die_ ,” Ryouta wailed. “Okay, well, she came back for me eventually, but.”

Aomine snorted.

“I have to be _half-naked_ ,” Ryouta whimpered. “I’ve never worn so few clothes in front of so many people.” He turned back over onto his stomach to bury his face back in the pillows.

“You’ll live,” Aomine said.

“So cruel,” Ryouta muttered, and sighed at his useless life partner.

It was quiet for a moment, though Ryouta could hear Aomine moving around again. He was starting to drift off again while thinking about his great misfortune.

“Oi, don’t fall asleep, you need to clean up for dinner.”

Ryouta sighed again, long and loud.

 

* * *

 

In the rush to learn his duties as the Sun Prince – Ryouta learned that sometimes there were Princesses too, though it was rarer – and help Momoi out with the organisation on top of continuing to go running with Aomine and train with practice swords in the morning, he forgot once again about his things, and his birthday, too busy rushing around being Momoi’s errand boy. He didn’t mind it, really, because he learned who were the useful people to speak to in the palace if you wanted things done, something he’d just known in Kaijo from living there his whole life, and who could pull what kinds of strings for you.

There wasn’t a lot of time set aside for going to the markets, though on the few occasions he and Momoi could take an afternoon to breathe, the two of them, and Aomine, would go down, because summer fruits were starting to come in, beautiful and sweet, although messy as anything. The first afternoon Momoi and Ryouta had gone alone, because Aomine had thought they were just going to look at clothes and jewellery and he’d “had enough of that”, but Momoi had told Ryouta to take some fruits back to their rooms and Aomine _might_ have been sulking once he realised that they’d gone to get _food_ , despite Ryouta’s peace offering. 

He was woken from his nap earlier than he liked.

“Ryouta.” Aomine sounded annoyed, not that it was anything new. It didn’t wake him up any faster, at any rate.

“What?” he asked; he wasn’t awake enough to do more than grumble it.

“Satsuki’s asking for you down in the courtyard,” Aomine told him. “So get up.”

Ryouta groaned as he pushed himself over onto his back. “I don’t want to.”

Aomine collapsed back on the other side of the bed and sighed. “Well then, I hope you don’t mind if she chucks out your boxes.”

Ryouta almost tripped with how fast he launched himself from the bed. “Why didn’t you say that bit first?!”

“Satsuki never summons people for no reason,” Aomine pointed out before rolling over onto his side. “I’m gonna sleep.”

Ryouta muttered under his breath about how useless Aomine was – he was almost definitely napping now so that he didn’t have to help Ryouta unpack his things – before trotting out to help bring his things in.

He wondered what was going to be there, why on _earth_ it had taken so long for his usually much more reliable sisters to send them. The anticipation of letters from them too also had him picking up his pace. He was relatively well settled within Touou’s palace, sure, but...

Well, he missed his family, and no matter how Momoi and Aomine’s other siblings and parents and step-parents tried to make sure he felt at home, they still weren’t his family. One day, maybe, they would, but for now...

Ryouta tried not to think about it.

He strode out into the courtyard, calling out. “Momocchi, I’m sorry, Aominecchi is—“ and paused dead in the middle of his sentence, mouth open, because smiling and evidently chatting away quite happily with Momoi, was Hikaru.

“Ryouta!” Hikaru greeted him, beaming. “Surprise!”

“Nee-chan,” Ryouta said, because it was the only thing he felt like he _could_ say, and then Hikaru looked him up and down, and a wicked grin made its way onto her mouth.

“You look good, brother,” she said, and Ryouta flushed. It was reasonable enough attire in Touou – the pants he was wearing where light and airy, though clearly expensive; more notably, he wore only the single layer, a thin, short-sleeved shirt short at the midsection baring his stomach slightly, because why shouldn’t he now that Aomine’s training was giving him muscles to show off there, and sandals – but it was most definitely _not_ reasonable _Kaijo_ attire. He opened his mouth to respond, but then her gaze settled on his hair, and she added, “Did we interrupt something?”

For a moment, Ryouta missed the implication in her words, and didn’t understand the amused look as his sister’s eyes flickered from his face to his hair, and then he remembered that he’d been _sleeping_ , and that his bed hair probably looked an awful lot like his hair would if he and Aomine had been...

“ _Nee-chan_! No!”

Hikaru giggled, and Ryouta wondered for a fleeting moment why on earth he’d missed her, before his brain caught up again to remind him that h _is sister was standing in front of him_ and he put aside the fact that his older sister was awfully embarrassing to rush over and pick her up in a hug. Hikaru squealed when her feet came off the floor, and Ryouta spun her around, and felt like his smile was going to split his cheeks. “I can’t believe you’re here!” he told her. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“It was a _surprise_ ,” Hikaru said. “Also, I wasn’t entirely sure I was going to be able to, and I didn’t want to disappoint you on your birthday.”

Ryouta set his sister back down on her feet. “Momocchi, is it possible to have my things put aside for the moment?” he asked, looking back at her. She was smiling at them.

“Already done,” she told him. “Go spend time with your sister!”

He beamed at her. “You’re the _best_ , Momocchi,” he declared. “Nee-chan, do you want to rest for a bit? You probably rode in, right? It’s too hot and stuffy to be in a carriage in this weather.”

“I rode,” she said, letting Ryouta steer her inside with the arm he still had around her. “You know I have no patience for the carriage, Ryouta.”

He smiled down at her. Though both of his sisters were tall, especially for women, Ryouta was taller than them both.

“You seem to have settled in well,” Hikaru commented as he guided them towards the dining room usually favoured by the family. “I was a little worried, you know.”

Ryouta squeezed her gently. Of course she had been – Hikaru was the more sensitive and romantic of the three of them, completely unable to deal with the idea of a political, loveless marriage. Rika was the sensible, rational one, and as she’d pointed out to him, he was well equipped to deal with the challenges of adapting to a new home and culture.

“I’m sure Nee-san would have told you there was no need,” he responded, and Hikaru huffed.

“Of course she did,” Hikaru muttered. “But Rika is Rika.”

That was Hikaru’s way of saying that while she respected their oldest sister, she didn’t agree with her. She often considered Rika to be too rational and logical; as they’d gotten older, and Rika had inherited more and more responsibilities, Hikaru had often lamented to Ryouta that their sister was turning into a cold, unfeeling block of stone.

Sisters could be cruel, if only because they knew your weaknesses and how to exploit them ruthlessly just a little bit too well.

“And I’m me,” Ryouta pointed out.

Hikaru sighed, as if Ryouta was completely missing her point, rather than refuting it.

As they reached the dining room, Ryouta caught one of the kitchen girls as she was leaving with some plates, and smiled at her.

“Could you ask the cook to send some drinks and sweet things, if he has any, for my sister and I?” Ryouta requested. He didn’t spend much time in the kitchens, actually, not nearly as much as he had back at Kaijo, but the head cook seemed to like him well enough, from the few occasions that Ryouta had interacted with him. “Though, please tell him if he doesn’t, that it’s alright!”

The kitchen girl went steadily redder as Ryouta’s attention remained on her. Finally, as he finished, she stammered out a response, and scurried away.

“You haven’t trained them out of that yet?”

Ryouta looked at Hikaru, who seemed amused by the interaction. “I don’t spend that much time in the kitchens,” Ryouta answered. “Come on.”

“Not even to beg late breakfast?” Hikaru continued. “I’m _really_ going to have to meet this miracle man who’s gotten Ryouta out of bed in time for breakfast _and_ into shape.”

Ryouta glared at her and pouted. “You’re being _mean_ , Nee-chan,” he complained. “You’ve been here for all of ten minutes!”

Hikaru patted his hand as she settled down at a cushion at one of the low tables. “Were you always so sensitive, Ryouta?” she teased.

He grumbled and sat next to her. “I changed my mind,” he declared. “I didn’t miss you at all.”

What was left of Ryouta’s morning disappeared to Hikaru. At some point, the kitchen girl came back, and attempted to calmly leave the tea and treats, but her fluster returned the moment that Hikaru and Ryouta both turned to thank her, possibly overwhelmed by having the both of them smile at her, because she left in such a hurry that Hikaru giggled for a good five minutes. Momoi popped in to tell Ryouta that his sister would be staying in the rooms he’d been in before he’d married Aomine, something that Ryouta was thankful for, since he’d actually be able to _take_ his sister there, rather than asking for help from a servant and giving Hikaru even more material to tease him with.  The afternoon, Ryouta took her out to the markets, eager to show her all the things that he’d written to her and Rika about – the jewellery, the clothes, and the fruits and foods. When her gaze lingered on an outfit, he made a note to have something made for her, despite her protests when he mentioned it to her.

“It’s not _my_ birthday!” she insisted as they wandered through the stalls. “I can’t possibly let you.”

“Nee-chan,” Ryouta whined, “I want to spoil you! And you would look so beautiful!”

“Older siblings spoil the younger ones,” Hikaru argued. Ryouta decided he’d have to get Momoi’s help, and put it aside with a sigh, making a mental note to mention it to Momoi.

He was starting to feel weary as they rode back up to the palace. His nap after training with Aomine in the morning had been cut shorter than he liked, after all. Thankfully, there was time between arriving back and dinner for him to have a short rest before going to take his sister to meet his husband and his family.

In all honesty, he was very nervous about how this was going to go. Hikaru was going to know, after all. She’d take a look at them, and she’d _know_. Being so blissfully happy with her own match... even though their circumstances were very different, he didn’t want her to feel guilty. He was happy enough here, after all, though he had to admit that finding the time to help himself out, so to speak, was difficult, though with the amount of work he did, physical and otherwise, he was often too tired out to even think about it.

He felt a little better after his short nap, but wished that Aomine had been around so they could talk _strategy_ of some sort. He was sure that Aomine already knew that Hikaru was here – it was the nature of palace gossip after all – but he had yet to come and make himself known to Ryouta’s sister. He’d played it off to Hikaru when she’d asked, saying he was likely being considerate of them by letting them have some time together before they struggled to find any time to be relatively unaccompanied, but...

He really should have at least poked his head in for a _greeting_ earlier. But there was nothing to be done about that now.

Hikaru had changed from the clothes she arrived in into something a little lighter, though it was still undeniably Kaijo fashion; Ryouta wondered if she felt out of place next to Ryouta, who was clearly and comfortably dressed in Touou clothes. Actually, now that he thought about it, he was probably dressed very similarly to how Aomine had been back that night when Aomine came to meet him after the disastrous dinner.

She looked him over as she stood in the door and her mouth quirked. “I’m surprised you’re so comfortable.”

Ryouta shrugged. “It’s hot here,” he said by way of explanation. “You get used to it, I suppose.”

Hikaru hummed thoughtfully as she stepped out of her room and curled one of her arms around his. “I think I’m going to like it here,” she commented, and Ryouta’s mouth dropped and he turned his head to look at her.

“What?” she asked, with a wicked smile on her face. “Just because I’m married doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a good view, brother.”

“I don’t want to hear this!”

“I’m _married_ ,” Hikaru said, exasperated. “I know what a naked man looks like, Ryouta.”

He tugged his arm away from her. “ _Nee-chan_!”

There was something evaluative on her face as she looked at him while they walked. She seemed to set whatever thought she was having aside, and curled her arm about his again. Ryouta didn’t have the heart to shake her off again.

“You’re embarrassing,” he muttered instead.

“Oh, you’re still so _proper_ , Ryouta,” she said. “Even now, when you’re so bare like this. I despair of both you and Rika, you know.”

“There’s nothing wrong with propriety,” Ryouta argued. “I wear the clothes because I don’t want to stand out. It’s useless to make a political alliance and refuse to adopt anything. It makes me seem as if I don’t want to be seen as one of them.”

Hikaru sighed. “Propriety has no place in a marriage, Ryouta,” she informed him, as if she was all the wiser for her scant months more of experience in the matter. “Do you think I dress like I do outside my chambers for my husband?”

“Can we not talk about this?” Ryouta asked. “I don’t want to know about this.”

She sighed. “And here I thought maybe I’d finally have someone to talk to.”

Ryouta frowned, but they’d arrived at the dining room already, and he had to switch gears. Hikaru had her usual ease about her, and so he sighed, smiled, and brought her inside.

A few of Aomine’s brothers were there already; Hikaru had met Imayoshi, of course, during his stay in Kaijo’s castle, but Ryouta took the opportunity to introduce her to Susa and Sakurai, before wondering where Momoi and Aomine were. It was unusual for Momoi to be late for anything.

Still, everyone settled approximately at their usual seats, though there was an extra space next to Hikaru, who was sitting next to Ryouta where Momoi would usually sit.

Momoi, her husband, whose last name Ryouta had discovered to be Ootsubo, and Aomine all came in at the same time. Ryouta looked Aomine over as Momoi reacquainted herself with Hikaru, and introduced her husband. He didn’t notice the way Hikaru was also glancing over at Aomine too.

Had he... dressed up?

“You look nice,” he commented, somewhat bewildered. Aomine hated dressing up, and _never_ did so for dinner if it was just with the family. Aomine frowned at him in response.

“Ryouta, introduce me to your handsome husband,” Hikaru interrupted, and that was when he realised Momoi and Ootsubo had finished speaking with her. Somehow, he had been caught off-balance.

“Ah,” he started, “Hikaru, may I introduce you to Aomine Daiki, Crown Prince of Touou? Aominecchi, this is my sister, Kise Hikaru, Crown Princess of Kaijo.”

“At least until Rika marries and carries an heir of her own,” Hikaru clarified, offering her hand. “It’s lovely to meet you. Ryouta writes about you.”

Somehow, although he wasn’t so much taller than Ryouta, Aomine seemed so much bigger than Hikaru. He took the hand she offered to him, and Ryouta was probably the only one blushing when he kissed it. “The pleasure is mine,” he said, and Ryouta _stared_ at him. “Ryouta has only ever has good things to say about both you and your sister.”

Hikaru smiled. “Ryouta has always been a flatterer,” she replied as Aomine let her hand go.

Aomine took the opening. “Shall we sit?”

Ryouta didn’t know where this man had come from, but he wasn’t sure it was the same one that he married.

Between himself, Momoi and to Ryouta’s surprise and confusion, _Aomine_ , Hikaru managed to pick up the eating thing very quickly. And Aomine was. Dare he say. _Conversational_.

It was like Ryouta had woken up from his nap in a completely different world. He kept staring at Aomine, trying to figure out what exactly was going on here.

What they spoke about wasn’t anything Ryouta didn’t know already. Aomine talked about the men he trained, which Ryouta knew because he did that in the afternoons now instead of the mornings, because those were devoted to training _him_. He talked about Shia, too, when Hikaru asked about her from one of Ryouta’s letters, all things Ryouta himself already knew.

“You’re not eating,” Aomine said, after catching Ryouta looking at him again.

“Not true,” Ryouta argued, though it _was_. Aomine raised an eyebrow at him, and pushed one of the plates a little closer.

Beside him, he could hear Hikaru whisper a question to Momoi, though he couldn’t hear exactly what she asked. What he _did_ hear, as he reached out for some food in defiance of Aomine’s comment, was how the two of them _giggled_.

He looked at Hikaru, worried, but she didn’t seem to be in the kind of high spirits that would worry him, so he decided he probably didn’t want to know.

Everyone was bidding each other good evening, and Ryouta was hovering between Hikaru and Aomine, uncertain about what was about to happen, when Hikaru smiled at them both.

“If you don’t mind, Ryouta,” she said, “may I borrow your husband for a little while?”

Ryouta looked at Aomine briefly, then back at her. Aomine didn’t seem like he was too worried by the request. He didn’t like the idea of leaving them alone together though, somehow.

“You’re _married_ ,” he reminded her, for what felt like the thousandth time that day.

“Yes, yes,” she said, and hooked an arm around Aomine’s elbow. “I’ll give him back to you in the same state I took him in, don’t you worry, Ryouta.” She looked up at Aomine. “Shall we?”

Aomine glanced at Ryouta for a moment, and then looked back at her. “Alright...”

Ryouta gave them about a thirty second head start before hurrying off. Hopefully, with the leisurely pace, he’d be able to find and follow them discreetly.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust them. He was actually just desperately curious to know what the gods’ names his sister wanted to talk to Aomine about in _private_. It probably wasn’t very nice of him to try and eavesdrop, but Ryouta had never claimed to be perfect.

Aomine liked to walk through certain passages and halls, Ryouta had learned over the last few months, as they’d walk to and from places. He wouldn’t necessarily take the most direct route unless he was particularly hungry. Down one of Aomine’s preferred hallways, Ryouta could hear them speaking, and followed the sound of their voices. He was sure he’d be close enough to hear what they were saying any moment, but then, all of a sudden, he couldn’t hear them anymore.

“Damn it,” he muttered. As he followed the hallway to where it ended, there was no sign of either Aomine or Hikaru. How they’d escaped him, he wasn’t sure, but Ryouta knew that he wasn’t going to be able to find them in time to hear what it was that Hikaru wished to discuss with his husband.

Ryouta pulled a face and sighed. He knew better than to think he’d be able to get one of them to tell him, and reluctantly, he turned back towards his and Aomine’s quarters.

 

* * *

 

June was a decidedly busy time. Ryouta desperately wished he had the time to unpack the things that had finally arrived, but between getting fitted for his ‘outfit’ for the festival, and helping Momoi get everything organised for the man who did the actual running of the event, he simply didn’t have the time and energy together to do it, and he didn’t really want to leave the unpacking of his special, personal belongings to the servants. Especially since there were a few innocuous looking items that were in fact quite dangerous in there. He didn’t want one of the servants to accidentally hurt themselves.

On the day of the festival, he was kind of glad Aomine had been waking him before the sun rose. _He_ had to be at the temple as the sun rose to be ‘crowned’ for his role today, and have his hands, body and face painted. The whole day, from when the sun rose until it set, he would supposedly be the sun’s embodiment. He would open the festivities with the priests in the morning, a ceremony which included the carrying of a sacred flame from the temple to where he would light a larger fire. He wasn’t entirely sure why a fire was necessary in the middle of summer, since it would be hot and bright already, but in his previous experience with priests, he’d be bored stupid by any explanation if he asked for one.

He would have to dance around midday, when the sun hit the highest point in the sky; but he didn’t have to dance alone, at least. There would be a few other men and women who he would dance with, although as the Sun Prince, he would be the centre of it. He didn’t feel nervous – he’d been able to recreate the dance with ease after watching one of the men perform it for him – but he knew he was going to be watched by a lot of people, and it made him feel a little uncomfortable.

And in the evening as the sun set, he would carry part of the flame back to the temple, after giving thanks, and an offering to the flame. That would mark the end of his duties, though not of the festival itself. The festivities would continue well into the evening.

He felt a little bad for Hikaru; he didn’t have a lot of time to spend with her, either, and the time he spent with her in the evenings in her room, he was often too worn out to be very good company.

“I don’t mind,” she told him as he apologised again from where his head was resting in her lap while she read. “Yuri-san has been good company, and I’ve learned a few things from her.”

With Ryouta and Momoi caught up in their tasks, it had somewhat accidentally fallen to Aomine to keep Hikaru company. Ryouta didn’t know where he’d gotten the idea to have Hikaru and Yuri spend time together, but Hikaru thought she was wonderful; and completely agreed that she looked like one of their deep ocean goddesses. Ryouta was glad she didn’t feel lonely, without her beloved husband, or her brother, though he wasn’t sure how to feel about the fact that he was fairly sure she had a better relationship with his mother in law than he did.

Still, he whined to himself as he got out of bed. For once, Aomine was still asleep, and not the one forcing him awake; Ryouta envied him his extra sleep time, and muttered under his breath as he pulled on clothes and gently folded the outfit he was to wear to the evening festivities.

He was surprised to see Aomine was awake when he left their wardrobe, though.

“You should have woken me up,” Aomine grumbled.

“Why? You don’t have anywhere to be,” Ryouta said. Aomine glared at him for a moment, and then sighed heavily before moving to the wardrobe.

“You’re such an idiot,” he said loudly, so Ryouta could hear him. “You think I’m not part of your guard for today?”

“You _are_?” Ryouta couldn’t remember him ever saying so.

“Of course,” Aomine told him. “You’re my bride, you know. And you’re going to be wearing that crown.”

Ryouta had thought that the guards assigned to him were it, and of course that his ceremonial role would mean that the fact he wasn’t with Aomine wouldn’t be remarked upon. Still, it’d be good to have familiar company, and Momoi had said that Aomine enjoyed this particular festival.

“Well, hurry up,” Ryouta told him. “I need to leave soon for them to finish painting me on time.”

He thought he heard a growl in the wardrobe, but when Aomine came back out, he didn’t seem as if he was all that bothered, so Ryouta put it aside. He had other things to worry about.

Maybe he’d been mistaken.

The ride to the temple was quiet in the early hours of the morning; when they arrived, the priests seemed to be more scolding Aomine for their lateness than Ryouta. He had to laugh at the mildly sulky look on Aomine’s face as he was pulled further into the temple to get changed.

It was just as well that it was warm outside even though it was still the early hours of the morning – the application of the cold paint on his skin would have been horrible if it had been too cold out. As it was, it could have been worse, though Ryouta found himself fidgeting more than he usually would due to his state of undress.

“Are you ready?” one of the higher-rank priests asked when he poked his head into the room. “The sun will be rising shortly.”

“Almost,” answered one of the priests who were putting the finishing touches on the symbols on Ryouta’s back. Ryouta wondered how the paint was supposed to last through the day when he knew he was going to be sweating most of the time after the sun rose. Did he have to get it touched up? That would suck.

He was ushered out to the larger, open section of the temple, where the flame he was going to carry was kept. The High Priest was also there with the crown, standing next to Aomine, who was scowling with his arms crossed.

Ryouta knelt on the floor, feeling very bare in the light, loose pants and sandals, paint and nothing else on him. The High Priest passed the crown’s box over to one of his subordinates, and approached.

The crown wasn’t anything Ryouta would pick to wear for himself – yellow gold got lost in his hair most of the time, so most of Kaijo’s finery was in white gold. The band was made up of leaves, and the centre of it featured a two-tailed snake, over which a crescent moon supported a sun. Between the sun’s eight rays was a different coloured jewel, one for every colour of the rainbow.

Ryouta thought it was a little gaudy himself, but it really wasn’t about what he thought in the end.

It was surprisingly heavy on his head as the High Priest placed it. Ryouta resisted the urge to adjust it more comfortably – he’d do that later when he was no longer under the watchful, judgemental eyes of the priests.

Ryouta stood up as the High Priest stepped away, standing tall and proud at his full height. He was taller than most people in the room, except for Aomine and one or two of the priests, and he resisted the urge to sigh.

He was passed a torch to light from the flame the burned in the temple, and he nodded shortly to the man who’d passed it to him. The sun would rise any moment, and he would exit the temple, preceded by his two guards, and followed by eight priests, when it did.

He glanced over at Aomine. Aomine would follow behind the train, because he didn’t quite fit into the ceremony, but he’d join him after he lit the fire down in the large square. Usually there was a market there, but today there would be different stalls, spaced in a different manner, and performers all around.

He smiled at Aomine quickly, and then turned to light the torch.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a while for many different reasons and I apologize. Though I have to say, Aomine interacting with other people is really a challenge and so is writing other people from another series. OTL Yep, more cameos.

"...I think we've covered everything that needed to be discussed today," King Akio said, smiling pleasantly at those gathered before him. "I believe this meeting could then be put to a close, unless you have something you want to say, Daiki? Since you are here today to grace us with your presence?"

Sometimes, Daiki had no clear idea if his father was just making fun of him. It was just so hard to tell when he was feeling playful and Daiki never really had the patience for it. Overall, he knew his father meant well, however, so he resisted the urge to frown at the little jab about his negligence when it came to official meetings with the King of Touou.

All eyes were on him then and really, it was just his father and his brothers and Ootsubo but somehow, their attention right then made him feel like squirming. He cleared his throat.

"There was just something I wanted to ask."

"Is it something concerning the armies?" His father asked, easing back against his chair again to listen as if this would take a bit more time. "How are the trainee's progress?"

That wasn't his purpose at this meeting though it should be. Patiently, he humored the King's inquiry, "The new recruits are doing well though as usual, we can never really tell how many of them will last the rigorous training they're put through. And as an added note, I've been working with Yamazaki and his shoulder would really slow him down but I think we can work on doing something about it anyway."

That last bit of information made the King smile. "I see. It's good to know that we'd have good news to send Matsuoka-san concerning his good friend."

Daiki almost felt like rolling his eyes. "Like I'd let Yamazaki waste away. Matsuoka owes me."

King Akio laughed. "I'll let you settle that between you two. Meanwhile, is there anything else, Daiki?"

They all stared and Daiki had to take a deep breath before finally spitting out why he was there in the first place.

"Is there any possible way that we could convince the priests to appoint someone else as the Sun Prince?"

For a long, quiet moment, you could have heard a pin drop.

"...Have the priests ever reversed their decision on their appointment?" Ootsubo, Satsuki's husband from Shuutoku, asked.

Shoichi was smiling a bit too gleefully; it was obviously both annoying and terrifying given the source. "Not since Aomine fell asleep in the middle of his orientation regarding his duties."

Daiki had to frown. "Oi, this isn't about me."

"We're sure it's not," their father, the King, stepped in smoothly before tempers flared any further. "However, Daiki, you know we couldn't even propose a change if there's no good reason for it."

"Why would you even want anything changed?" Kousuke put in, arms crossed over his chest and frowning at Daiki as he always did, " _You_  don't want to do it."

Daiki saw Shouichi give Kousuke this look that Daiki had a feeling he didn't want to know the meaning of.

"A-and isn't Ryouta-san a good choice for Sun Prince anyway? It fits him..." and Ryou trailed off fearfully when Daiki turned his frown at him.

Yoshinori spoke evenly over Ryou's whimpering about not being shut up in a closet again, "Is there a particular reason you don't want Ryouta-san to do this?"

And that of course was the question of the moment.

 

* * *

 

Daiki was a grown man by anyone’s standards. He was at six and twenty, married and with children, Named Heir to a rich and prosperous kingdom but to those nearest and perhaps not exactly dearest to him, he was, for the most part, a child. This could be especially when he was not happy about something and couldn’t get his way.

Perhaps he should be embarrassed but Daiki had little to no shame when it came to a lot of things and that included running to his mother when Satsuki was preoccupied. He felt himself justified in his actions; his mother was wise and of course he trusted her not to ever lead him astray. He really didn’t think of it much when he walked with purpose into her rooms, practically barging in with urgency.

“Mother, did you hear the news?” He asked, coming into her seating room and hardly taking notice of, well, anything. After all, he had a more pressing concern than whatever was new in his surroundings. “Ryouta’s been made the Sun Prince. Can we do something about this?”

As always when he visited, he made himself comfortable by the low table, reaching for the display of food in the middle and helping himself to a juicy-looking peach. “I don’t want Ryouta to do it.”

There was silence as he bit and chewed on the fruit and Daiki didn’t really think much of it as his mother’s silences weren’t anything new. Aomine Yuri was usually more thoughtful and careful than the rest of her family so Daiki had learned through the years to just patiently wait for her to speak.

“But Dai-chan, don’t you think it would fit Ryou-chan really well to be the Sun Prince?”

He stopped mid-chew. That was not the cool, calming voice of his mother.

At the other side of the table, smiling at him in that way that always kind of made him squirm ever since he was a teenager, was Yoshinori and Satsuki’s mother, Hana. Compared to the tall and slender Yuri, Hana was more petite and curvy. Her hair was as pink as Satsuki’s, curling long and bouncy down her back, while her gay, laughing eyes were brown like chocolate. She was warm and affectionate, always happy to lend a hand or a shoulder and Daiki may have thought about her bountiful breasts more than he should have when he was younger.  They were still plenty distracting now so he did his best to make sure he kept his gaze on her face or else he might embarrass himself like he almost always did just a few years ago.

“Aunt Hana, I’m sorry,” He glanced to the side to finally find his mother who was sitting at her usual side of the table. “I didn’t think you’d have a guest right now, Mother.”

His mother sighed though she seemed resigned at her son’s lack of manners. Daiki almost ducked his head at the sight of it. “You’re not really disturbing us, dear. At least I don’t think so.”

Hana smiled sunnily from the other side. “Not at all! And it sounded like Dai-chan was very concerned for Ryou-chan.”

And Daiki was but now it felt kind of awkward to be having this conversation with his mother with Hana around as if the topic itself wasn’t awkward enough already.

“Is there a particular reason why Ryouta shouldn’t be the Sun Prince?”

Daiki felt like hitting his head on the table or flopping down uselessly on the floor. Why was he getting this question so much? Why couldn’t people just accept what he wanted and do something about it? No one needed to know he was absolutely against Ryouta being half-naked in front of the whole kingdom. Why won’t people just do what he wanted them to do? So much for being Crown Prince. It doesn’t exactly grant him a whole lot of convenient privilege.

It was all very frustrating and he was pretty sure his mother (and Hana) could see just how much. He could feel it in the way his forehead was heavy with a frown and how he actually was not in the mood to eat more of the peach he pilfered from the table before him.

His mother looked at him for a long moment, understanding dawning not long after.

“My poor Daiki.”

She opened her arms to him like she always did, ever welcoming and supportive, while Hana cooed and fussed and if he took the offered comfort like a little, lost boy then no one was going to mention it.

 

* * *

 

The end was nigh when Prince Aomine Daiki sat in front of a hefty plate of meat and cheese stuffed pastries and didn't grab for two at once.

The kitchens had always been one of the Crown Prince's favorite places in the castle. If he couldn't be found at the training grounds or in his rooms, he most certainly would be in the kitchens, munching on something freshly prepared just for him. Daiki loved to eat, it was his second favorite pastime after sleeping, and it was rare when he didn't immediately eat food that was placed before him.

It took Daiki a while to realize that there was food set before him, hardly noticing that the mouth-watering scent of beef, onions, garlic and spices was so very near him it would be easy enough to grab the source. It was the shadow that loomed over him that alerted him and he found himself even sitting up straighter to show his presence of mind.  

Touou's Cook was a god.

Well, Daiki sure thought so when he was smaller and younger. He was a big man, towering and strong, with a silent, commanding presence that had made his tinier self ease up on the mischief and loudness in the kitchens which was Cook’s domain. Even now, Aomine wouldn't dare cross him. He may not think the man could crush him with his muscled arms and large hands anymore but it still wouldn't be fun if he ever decided to stomp on him. Or worse. But Cook's real power lay in the dishes that he fed the royal family with, which were the best in the land and Daiki would fight with anyone who said otherwise.

Cook stood before Daiki with a copper and porcelain coffee set that gleamed in the low light of the room. He stared at the untouched tray of pastries. Daiki could never recall if he actually ever heard Cook utter more than a few choice words but Cook never seemed to really need to speak unless necessary. His stare was meaningful enough and Daiki felt like squirming like he was six again and caught with his hand in the jar of baklava before dinner. And just like any good, well-mannered boy, Daiki reached for a pastry and bit on it. Neatly.

Cook was still eyeing him.

Daiki almost frowned. "I washed my hands. Honest."

Daiki credited it to age and courage that he didn't look away first as Cook continued to stare at him. Still, he felt relief course through him when Cook placed the coffee set beside the plate of pastries and walked away. Again, Cook never said a word but it still felt to Daiki that he was being judged.

"What does a man have to do to be left alone..." Daiki muttered to himself before reaching for another pastry. And another.

The pastries were really good as always.

 

* * *

 

"Are we done for today?"

The calmly stated words made Daiki break off from his thoughts and narrow his eyes at the impudent speaker. Normally, no one breathed a word unless necessary in the Crown Prince’s presence during training for the troops. Then again, the one Daiki was currently with was no ordinary soldier.

Yamazaki Sousuke wasn't as tall as him but he was still big, built and skilled and not too long ago, he was one of the best fighters in Touou under Aomine's command. That didn't make him more enjoyable to be around, in fact he was even worse nowadays, with that injured shoulder and all, but Daiki wasn't letting him get away with it. He never did and he wasn't going to start now.

"No and I know what you’re going to do if I dismiss you now. You’re not doing this on your own, Yamazaki." Daiki tossed back, hefting his sword more purposely in his hand as he stood before his opponent. "I won't be the indirect cause of your best friend's tears so just shut your trap and try again."

He gave Sousuke another narrowed look.

"With your other arm."

That got him a bit of a smirk and even as Sousuke got into position, Daiki was asked, "You're not going to worry about Kisumi crying over me?"

"Kisumi can cry all he wants," Daiki answered easily. "He deserves it."

Teal eyes smiled at him over that growing smirk and it reminded Daiki that he actually kind of liked Sousuke, when he wasn't being a pain on his backside.

"I should probably defend his honor, shouldn't I?"

"Well you are marrying him..."

"Why am I doing that again?"

"Because you're stupid," and Daiki cut through the banter with an attack that made Sousuke immediately go into defensive, raising his own sword to block him. Daiki was quick and relieved to note that Sousuke's reaction time was getting better with the lighter sword that he was using. It was a lot of progress from when they started and it hadn't been easy. For a while there, they thought they had lost Sousuke to depression and anger but people had rallied to help him get through and now Sousuke was almost back to his old self, at least with how he dealt with people.

They continued on sparring for some time until Sousuke needed to rest. It was said by the healers that Sousuke’s shoulder wasn’t ever going to be the same, that the pain would haunt him for the rest of his life, but that didn’t mean that he’d have to give up his duties. They just had to find a way for him to work around it; thankfully the man fought two handed.

And he just had the kind of stubborn support system that would never let him give up just like that.

“Dai-chan! You better not be overworking Sousuke!” A voice called from the side and Daiki had to sigh, catching that little smirk on Sousuke’s face before they both turned.

Kisumi was making his way toward them, an umbrella shading him from the heat of the summer sun. Just like the rest of the population, Kisumi had changed into his summer wardrobe, lessening layers and donning lighter colors and fabrics. Despite the heat and sun, his skin somewhat retained its smoothness and fairness to the envy of the court ladies.Then again, the Shiginos had been in the trade of beauty and relaxation for generations. Kisumi was merely displaying the quality of their goods and services but then again he had always been a bit vain and with good reason. Kisumi was one of the most beautiful men in Touou and he quite enjoyed it.

Kisumi’s very fashionable and breathtaking appearance was only a bit ruined by the water gourds he had strapped across his chest that then hung on his hip.

He was smiling despite his earlier words as his violet eyes fell beyond Daiki, “I think it’s time for a bit of a rest, Sousuke~”

Sousuke moved forward to meet Kisumi, the smirk melting into a more bemused expression and Daiki almost sighed again at what was happening. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been an unwilling audience to this sappiness for years now though anyone would tell him that he was exaggerating. As couples went, Sousuke and Kisumi were pretty discreet.    

“I’m fine,” Sousuke said to his very fussy betrothed and humored being put under the umbrella too and getting handed a gourd to drink from, “someone needs to make sure Aomine doesn’t get too comfortable, that’s all.”

“Oi, who said anything about being comfortable?” Daiki demanded with a bit of a scowl. “And why does he get a drink and I don’t?”

Kisumi laughed and easily gave the huffy prince the other gourd. “Because I would expect that Ryouta-sama would do the honors of giving you one.” He finished that off with one of his playful winks before looking around. “Where is Ryouta-sama, Dai-chan? I haven’t seen him in a while.”

Daiki took a long drink from his gourd before grunting, “He’s busy. And stop calling me that.” Kisumi and his familiarity with him. Where did the “Daiki-sama” go?

“Ryouta-san’s been appointed Sun Prince,” Sousuke put in helpfully.

Kisumi’s violet eyes widened. “Oh, I see. That would make him very busy.”

Sousuke nodded, taking a sip from his own gourd. “And Aomine misses him.”

Daiki almost spat out his drink. “I do not miss him!”

“Dai-chan is so sweet!” Kisumi cooed, violet eyes dancing and Daiki felt like drenching him with the water he just gave him. “Has there been any progress with Ryouta-sama, Dai-chan?”

“What progress?” Daiki asked, becoming busy with his water again. “There’s nothing to tell you about anything.”

Kisumi just gave him this annoying knowing look and he really wished Kisumi would just walk back to the palace and take Sousuke with him. Kisumi, for all his seeming airheadedness was actually quite sharp.

“Kisu, leave him alone.” Sousuke said, surprisingly, an arm coming up to lightly lean on the pink-haired man’s shoulder. Then again, Sousuke owed Daiki. It just wasn’t him who was inept at solving this huge problem caused by love and marriages and once upon a time, Daiki was giving him his own unsolicited opinion of what he should do with Kisumi who had been relentless in his support and affection for years.

Kisumi sighed dramatically, giving Sousuke a bit of an unimpressed but fond look, “You ruin my fun, Sou.”

Sousuke just smirked, “That’s what I’m here for.”

And before they could stop the world and melt into each other, Daiki cleared his throat and asked if they were to continue with Sousuke’s exercise.

Honestly, these two. He couldn’t take them anywhere and he was not exaggerating at all.

 

* * *

 

Daiki was napping which was always a good source of comfort aside from good food. Ryouta had left their bedroom some hours ago and was probably busy arranging his things. Napping was also a way to shirk tasks that he didn’t feel like doing at all and he was pretty sure Ryouta could get someone else to haul up his things for him and help him organize them. Daiki wasn’t good at that anyway. What if he just made things more work for both of them? So he just napped on, content with the world for once in a series of days that were filled with annoyance and discontent.

That was, until something smacked him awake.

He jumped, shouting in shock, and found himself looking wildly around himself, tensed and on edge.

Satsuki was holding a pillow and looking pinched, which was nothing new but given his current disoriented state, he couldn’t exactly recall what he did that she was making this face at him. Beside her and towering over her but keeping a bit of a safe distance was her poor husband who looked like he would really rather not be here but had no say in the matter. Daiki often really thought Ootsubo let Satsuki get away with too much.

“Why are you still here, Dai-chan?”

“Huh?” Daiki turned toward Satsuk before looking around to see for the time. “Is it late? Is it time for dinner already?”

“You’ve got an hour,” and before Daiki could protest the very rude (and painful) awakening, Satsuki continued with hardly a pause, “And Ki-chan’s sister is here.”

Daiki felt his blood freeze. _Who was--_ With that, he forced the ice out of his limbs and started scrambling off the bed. “Ryouta’s sister is here and you didn’t come up here to wake me up sooner?”

Usually, Satsuki was more efficient when it came to dragging him off to his many important but boring obligations and it was something he had come to expect. The look she gave him as he tried to think of what to do first could have frozen him again if he wasn’t damned determined to get moving. He had to get ready to meet Ryouta’s sister and he couldn’t be first seen in wrinkled clothes he napped in.

Satsuki crossed her arms over her chest, “I’m busy and I thought Ki-chan would come up here to get you.”

Ootsubo moved forward then and gently put his hands lightly, warmly over Satsuki’s shoulders, rubbing gently and trying to soothe her. Daiki watched as she actually turned to him a little though she still looked at Daiki like she wished she didn’t have to worry about him so much. Her husband doing that and Satsuki actually turning into it made Daiki see what he had almost always missed about his older sister. His sister was a force of nature; if something must be done, then it would be. But she was also human and there were limits to her. Satsuki had been busy with so much. Satsuki was tired and it was slowly starting to take its toll on her.

“You have an hour,” Ootsubo spoke, gentle but coaxing, always careful when it came to speaking up in the presence of his wife’s family. He knew his place but also knew when and how to speak up to make a valid point. “I think that should be enough time to make yourself presentable for Kise-san.”

The address eased Daiki somewhat. “So it’s not the Queen who’s here?”

Ootsubo smiled a little even as he continued to hold Satsuki, “No, but I think you should still be in your best behavior, Aomine.”

Daiki frowned though he saw the gentle reminder for what it was. “That goes without saying.”

With that, he left them to prepare. A quick bath and shave washed away what lethargy was left in him, as well as the sweat that dried on his skin and left him feeling sticky as was how it usually was during Touou’s summers. He even bothered with the perfumed incense as it was a special occasion. The clothes he chose were fit for summer, just one layer and light, though he settled on a more formal cut for his shirt with sleeves that went just a bit beyond his elbows and a bit of a fancy golden trim.

Coming back to his room, he was greeted by the sight of Ootsubo and Satsuki cuddling on a chair. Ootsubo had seated himself on the chair while Satsuki had settled herself sideways over his lap. Satsuki’s eyes were closed, resting, and looking a bit more relaxed as Ootsubo just held her quietly. Most of the time, it was so easy to forget how theirs was also an arranged marriage. Overtime, a closeness grew between them that just seemed so natural. Sometimes, Daiki looked at them and wished...   

Ootsubo sensed that he was in the room and looked up. “Ready?”

Daiki nodded and looked to Satsuki instinctively.

Satsuki was smiling, looking better like the minutes she spent quietly sitting with Ootsubo helped a lot in relaxing her. “You look good.”

Daiki almost fidgeted uncomfortably but stayed the impulse. “Thank you. Let’s go? Unless you two still are--”

“I think I’m all right.” Satsuki said before smiling up at her husband. “It’s time for dinner.”

Ootsubo nodded and carefully helped her off before getting up himself. Even as they stood, they held hands and Daiki looked away.

“Let’s go.”

 

* * *

 

Daiki was prepared for it but it must still be said that Kise Hikaru was beautiful. Tall and golden with an infectious smile, she was definitely the type to turn heads and there was that slightly curious realization that he could have married her. They probably could have gotten along. From what he could see from just meeting her, she was warm and charming and with an air of playful mischief about her that he kind of liked.

But that was not really something he cared to think about further, even as he made a rare display of courtly manners and bent to lightly kiss the back of her hand after taking it in his. Princess Hikaru was beautiful but also very happily married and despite her womanly charms, still didn’t hold a candle to his own bride.

His bride who was looking at him in some kind of disbelieving awe that Daiki tried his best to ignore but it was hard. Ryouta never looked at him too long or too closely and it was making him self conscious. The scrutiny hardly wavered as he continued to act the gentlemanly and attentive Crown Prince when he had to be and tonight was definitely the time to be. He was trying to make up for not coming to see their honored guest earlier and he also wanted to make sure, to reassure her that Ryouta was in good hands. He couldn’t show her that Ryouta was in a loving marriage like she was but at least she would be able to see that he was being taken care of.

“You’re not eating,” he remarked, meeting Ryouta’s gaze directly while their sisters broke off for a bit of conversation on their own. If Ryouta thought he didn’t notice, he was completely wrong. It was hard to ignore being stared at so intently and how it was preventing Ryouta from enjoying his dinner.

“Not true,” Ryouta argued because that was what he did but Daiki was not going to be pulled into that kind of childish argument tonight.

Instead, he pushed a plateful of fruit at him and waited for him to take some. Ryouta ate lightly at night and he liked to have fruit most of all. Daiki watched Ryouta as he eyed him warily and moved to take some of the fruit, probably thinking that Daiki wouldn’t hesitate to feed him himself in front of his sister if he didn’t. Daiki had learned that that was practically the last thing Ryouta wanted him doing.

Dinner came to an end soon enough and everyone was in good spirits. Daiki was already feeling a bit tired; it was exhausting having to make the effort to actually entertain their guest and he looked forward to retreating to his rooms and just not talk or interact with anyone for a while.

“If you don’t mind, Ryouta,” Hikaru suddenly said, pulling Daiki’s attention to her as she addressed her younger brother, “may I borrow your husband for a little while?”

Ryouta gave them both some slightly suspicious looks though Daiki had no idea what he could be suspicious about. Despite his reputation, he was not going to do anything with his bride’s own sister.

“You’re married,” Ryouta reminded Hikaru then and Daiki had to glance at her curiously even as she took his arm.

“Yes, yes. I’ll give him back to you in the same state I took him in, don’t you worry, Ryouta.” And after giving her reassurances to her frowning brother, Hikaru smiled up at Daiki. “Shall we?”

“All right…” Daiki said though there really was no other answer. He was going to do whatever Hikaru asked of him no matter how tired he was and he was pretty sure they were going to be talking about Ryouta. What else could they possibly converse about? They had walked a few steps and turned a corner before Daiki opened his mouth again.

“So--” He paused when her grip on his arm tightened a little and when he looked into her face, there was this cheeky little grin that just looked so familiar. That definitely spelled trouble.

“Daiki-kun,” Hikaru began, leaning a bit closer to him conspiratorially, “I’m sure you know that Ryouta will be following us.”

Daiki nodded because that would be something Ryouta would do, especially given how he was eying them before they left. “He would.”

“So now, if you really want to impress me, it would be a good time to show me how to lose him.” She told him with a little wink.

Well, that was definitely a lot simpler than talking about Ryouta though Daiki was sure it was going to come. Ryouta may have been shown the many routes around the castle but Daiki had of course lived here all his life and would know more ways to get around. It was easy enough to lead Hikaru around a hall and down a staircase behind a large statue that led to the gardens outside. He had never shown Ryouta this particular path as it didn’t lead anywhere of use to them but if Hikaru wanted to talk, it was probably a good idea to do it somewhere Ryouta wouldn’t wander out into and Ryouta never seemed fond of heading outside at night if Daiki wasn’t with him.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say Daiki-kun was trying to charm me instead,” Hikaru said softly just as the stepped out into the gardens, walking along a lighted path under the stars with the moon glowing in the sky. “How romantic…”

Daiki froze and he scrambled for an explanation. “I didn’t mean--!”

Looking up at him, she held his gaze for a long moment before she laughed at the look on his face that was probably very flustered and uncomfortable.

“I’m just joking, Daiki-kun!” She patted his arm to soothe him, very proper and yet very friendly. “I know you only have eyes for my silly little brother. I have eyes too, you know?”

She kindly let him recover, walking with him at a leisurely pace until he was ready to look at her and not feel like jumping off a cliff. Shoichi probably also liked her a lot. He was actually kind of grateful they didn’t end up together. She was bad for his heart and in a way that was not good at all.

“Has he been difficult?” Hikaru asked after a while and Daiki was grateful for an easy question to answer.

“Of course,” he admitted without hesitation and she seemed to appreciate and even be amused by his bland honesty. “It’s hard to get him out of bed in the mornings even after all these months. For training.” He said to her directly with emphasis because it looked like she was going to say something that would make him choke. “And he keeps on whining the whole time even after we’re done. And he doesn’t eat as much as he should given how hard he trains.”

“But that’s a huge improvement on how he was before,” Hikaru shared. “Ryouta barely got out of bed before noon and he hardly did anything. You should be complimented for getting him to do so much.”

“I think he lacked motivation because he wasn’t challenged. Things came easily to him. Here, it looks like he found something that is worth doing because it pushed him to work hard.” As he spoke, Hikaru was watching him and it made him feel a bit self conscious again. “And...He’s doing well.”

She said she had eyes too. She could probably easily pick out how soft and stupid he actually was over Ryouta.

“I think Ryouta’s where he’s supposed to be.” Hikaru said, smiling up at him, and Daiki had the distinct feeling that he had gotten her approval somehow. “So please continue on taking care of him for us. He’s a lot of work but I think your efforts will all be worth it in the end.”

Daiki inclined his head to her. “Thank you, Kise-san.” It does make him feel...better that at least one of Ryouta’s sisters approved of him. “I’ll do my best.”

“Oh no, Daiki-kun!” Hikaru shook her head at him, looking disapproving at him with a pout that looked oh so familiar. “Don’t call me that, please? I think you’ve definitely earned the right to call me ‘Neesan’ just like Ryouta does.”

“Neesan.” Daiki tried it out.

She beamed. “Perfect!”

And Daiki found himself smiling a little despite it all. “Is it?”

“Yes! Very perfect and we are now officially related.” She declared with a bit of a bright giggle, clinging onto his arm a little. Daiki wondered if she was a bit tipsy. Did they let her drink too much wine?

“Welcome to the family, Daiki-kun! So now tell me, when are you and Ryouta planning to visit Kaijo? You have to meet Rika too, you know--”

Maybe he should walk her back to her rooms now.

 

* * *

 

Unsurprisingly, Ryouta was waiting for him when he got back to their rooms. He was seated on their bed, dressed for sleep in this light silky nightshirt in a yellow that complemented Ryouta very well. The heat had compelled Ryouta to change his wardrobe for summer and he had taken to wearing nightshirts that would be cooler to wear. Shorter too. They ended somewhere over his knees, displaying well turned knees and fair skinned legs and Daiki knew it was pathetic how he relished the view when he could. He also didn't know how to feel about Ryouta dressing like this so comfortably around him but that wasn't really something he could bring up with just anyone to examine.

Ryouta perked upon seeing him, looking more awake than he had been a few seconds ago before realizing Daiki was in the room.

"Is Neesan back in her room?" he asked.

Daiki nodded as he made his way deeper into their bedroom and started unbuttoning and pulling out of the shirt he was wearing. "I walked her there myself."

"So..." Ryouta paused and Daiki could feel his stare on his back in the way his skin prickled a little. He was always a little hyperaware of Ryouta when they were in the same room.

"What did you talk about?" The question was asked casually though Daiki knew somehow that Ryouta was dying of curiosity.

Daiki shrugged, tossing aside the shirt he had been wearing. "She was just asking how you are."

Ryouta was looking at him curiously, eyebrows drawn. "But we talked about me a lot already earlier today."

Another shrug and Daiki made his way to the small table to the side where a washing bowl waited. He poured some water into it and wetted his face, his neck, sighing at the relieving coolness.

"I told her about your training."

"And?"

“I said you could whine less."

"Rude, Aominecchi."

Ryouta was pouting and Daiki wished he could do something about it. Instead, he looked away and focused on cooling himself down.

"You say that but I'm your best student. Admit it."

Daiki snorted at the flippant, confident tone and looked over at his shoulder again to find that Ryouta had made himself comfortable on the bed. He was still turned towards him, looking at him with a bit of a smirk even as he rested his head on a pillow. The candlelight lit his cheeky but beautiful features and Daiki could imagine himself joining him there as he did every night. Only this time, he'd lean down and--

"Go to sleep, Ryouta." Daiki told him as he walked on off toward their wardrobe. "You can prove to me you're my best student tomorrow."

"But I already am your best student! Aominecchi!"

"Sleep."

Ryouta made more noises about Daiki being difficult and cruel as he changed into sleeping pants. He was still sulking when Daiki joined him in bed and only settled when Daiki put out the candles and threatened to make him run more tomorrow.

Ryouta was just so much work sometimes.

 

* * *

 

Normally, he enjoyed the Festival of the Sun. There was a lot of things to see and the fireworks at night were always exciting. Then there was the food being sold and Daiki loved the variety to choose from most of all. But this one was different for many reasons and that included the fact that he had to get up even earlier than usual.

Being part of Ryouta's guard was something he was able to insist on even though he would be sacrificing the rare opportunity of being able to sleep in. In his mind, if they weren't going to let him replace Ryouta as the Sun Prince then he was going to stay as close to him as he possibly could. It had been difficult but not impossible to sway the priests into letting him do this much. The High Priest (who had married him and Ryouta) was actually quite amiable with him and had allowed it, despite the many protests of the other priests (who hated Daiki for many, various reasons). And so that was taken care of and Daiki had the pleasure of getting up before the sun rose because of Ryouta.

Again.

Ryouta was up and about despite the early hour while he longed for a strong cup of coffee and some breakfast at least. He had no idea when they would be eating and being hungry would just make Daiki's mood worse. Ryouta was also as oblivious as always about why Daiki was actually coming with him, which was not a surprise. He didn't look hungry so Daiki wasn't going to give him any food if there was going to be any.

There was food in the carriage, just some freshly baked bread and fruits, but they were enough to stave Daiki's grumpy mood a little. He even let Ryouta have some out of the kindness of his pure, loving heart.

Daiki's good fortune continued when they got to the temple. They arrived with a lot of time to spare despite what the priests said and there was coffee. Strong coffee that would probably keep Daiki awake until the wee hours of the morning the next day but there was a festival so that was probably a good thing. He let the priests scold him as he drank, savoring the exquisite bitterness and flavorful spiciness while he hardly listened to what they had to say to him. He had heard these words thousands of times before. He had always been scolded by the priests since he was a boy and was perhaps the worst student most of them had ever had.

When Daiki was finally more alert, Ryouta had been preparing for the morning ritual for a while. He was dressed in paint and ceremonial clothes, mostly pants, sandals and nothing more. The painted patterns over Ryouta's fair skin were carefully and meticulously rendered and Daiki had to admit, they were very flattering. They were for a ceremony so each stroke and symbol had a meaning and if Daiki remembered correctly, the pattern of symbols were never the same for each Sun Prince. It escaped Daiki what the symbols meant as that required further study of the old language the priests used and of course Daiki had no patience for such things. It was enough that the paint looked good against Ryouta's skin. The crown almost blended in with Ryouta's hair when it was put over his head but the crown completed the ensemble and Daiki had to sigh a little at the sight of him.

He hated to admit it but yes, they did choose the right person for the Sun Prince.

Ryouta stood tall and proud amidst the gathering of holy men and his guards and somehow, Daiki also felt a flutter of something in his chest. It felt like pride though he had no idea what it could be that he should be proud of.

The Sun Prince was to carry a flame outside to the square to start the fire and Ryouta was handed a torch. Daiki watched as he turned to light it on the sacred flame that burned before him. Before he did, he seemed to seek something out and Daiki found Ryouta smiling at him.

It was quick and probably something Ryouta didn't even think too much about but it was something to Daiki, who felt a flame flare within him at that smile Ryouta unknowingly gifted him with.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [In My Life (There Is Someone Who Touches My Life)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3074717) by [cimberelly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cimberelly/pseuds/cimberelly)




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